


tears don't fall (they crash around me)

by danny_boy



Series: Tears Don't Fall [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: ??????, Bottom Peter Parker/Top Wade Wilson, It's gonna get worse before it gets better, M/M, Multi, No idea where this is going, Peter Has Nightmares, Peter has PTSD, Peter has three dads, Protective Wade, Spideypool - Freeform, Surprise Characters - Freeform, maybe mpreg you'll never know, momma widow, occasional smut, peter develops claustrophobia, peter has nightmares from fighting vulture, there's a traitor in our midst, they love him very much, they make it work though, this family puts the 'fun' in dysfunctional, wade helps peter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-25 22:39:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 84
Words: 100,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14388588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danny_boy/pseuds/danny_boy
Summary: It's not easy being a 15-year old that's had thousands of pounds of rock dropped on him.After his big fight with Vulture, Peter develops claustrophobia and intense nightmares.He'll get through it, with the help of his dads and of course, the ever charming Wade Wilson.





	1. one.

Though he declined becoming an Avenger, Peter eventually agreed to move to the Avenger's base... Per Aunt May's request.

Once she'd found him out as Spider-Man, she finally understood why he was awake so often in the night. She understood the nightmares that woke him from the few hours of sleep he managed to get.

She'd made him tell her about what happened with Liz's dad. How he'd gotten tons of weight in rock and metal dropped on him, and in his loneliness, was afraid that he'd die there. And if Tony Stark got a phone call from an angry Aunt May at three in the morning, well, nobody needs to know about it.

Nobody knew the extent of Peter's nightmares. Nobody knew what he saw when he slept. Nobody even realized that Peter had nightmares to begin with. Not at first.

 

Bucky was the first one to notice. He seemed to have a sixth sense about this kind of thing. He'd been walking through the halls one night and happened to pass by Peter's room. He didn't know why but he was drawn to the door. He only cracked the door a little, but it was all he needed to see Peter thrashing around in his bed, blankets tangled around his limbs. At first, he wasn't going to say anything about it at all, but once he heard the boy's broken call for help, he didn't hesitate to walk into the room and sit on the bed.

He was gentle in waking Peter, just like Steve was gentle in waking him when he had nightmares. Peter jumped at first, grabbing the hand that touched his shoulder. His eyes held a fear that made Bucky's chest hurt.

Peter was panting, eyes quickly shifting around the room. He could feel the tears on his face, and he could feel Bucky's gaze on him, but he didn't care this time. He was afraid, anyone could see. Peter was just a kid, who'd been through something traumatic.

Bucky didn't say anything, he knew that he didn't have to. Within moments Peter was relaxed enough to curl up and close his eyes. Bucky sat with him for the rest of the night, and only when the sun came up did he leave.

Peter didn't mention it after that, but Bucky knew he was grateful. Every now and then, they'd share a glance across a room, or a nod when passing in the hallway, but words weren't necessary.

\----

Vision was the next person to notice. He could hear Peter's cries through the wall, and if he flew across the base for the one person he knew could help Peter, nobody had to know about it.

It became natural for Bucky to roam the halls at night, and he frequently stopped by Peter's room. He'd asked Vision to alert him when Peter was having a nightmare and even went so far as to have Friday  
alert him, but only when he was in a room alone. He didn't want to let the cat out of the bag and risk Peter being upset that other people knew.

Bucky listed Natasha as his second-hand when it came to looking after Peter at night, because of how well Peter and Natasha got along during the day. If there was ever a time that Bucky was unavailable,  
Nat was meant to be sent to Peter's aid.

Once Bucky and Natasha both were meant to go on a mission together, they told Steve, and he quickly took up the mantle of the watchful eye. Steve wasted no time in telling Tony.

Being in a polyamorous relationship had its ups and downs, but this was definitely an up for them all. Peter, who had taken to each of them as parental figures, didn't seem to mind having the four of them  
looking after him either.

\----

Peter walks down the long hallway towards the gym, earbuds in and turned up too loud. He rolled right out of bed and into his gym shoes this morning. This morning, it turns out, all four parents are gone. Nobody told him until he walked into the kitchen this morning to see that Mr. Banner and Wanda were eating breakfast and they told him that everyone was gone for the foreseeable future. It could be weeks before they got home.

Peter wasn't thrilled that they were gone, and he was less thrilled that they all left him behind when he could've been of use.

They all knew damn good and well what Peter was capable of, especially after the training he'd been doing.

He was fast enough to nearly beat Natasha at hand-to-hand, and he was getting sneaky enough that even Steve couldn't tell he was coming sometimes.

 

He doesn't even know why he went to the gym, but he knows he stayed to beat the shit out of the punching bag. He chose to do some pull-ups and then decided to just go back to his room. With everyone gone and no permission to leave, there wasn't really anything else to do.

 

For three weeks it was just Peter, Wanda, and Mr. Banner around the base. It was maddeningly quiet, and with the only three heroes avoiding one another, it was boring as fuck.

Peter spent his nights awake and opted for only napping a half an hour at a time during the day. He'd consumed more coffee in a month than Tony ever would in a year. Aunt May called a few times but always hung up after a while. Peter understood, he knew she had things to do. He didn't know what things, but he figured they were important if she was hanging up on him to go do them.

Bruce and Wanda had grown worried, watching Peter roam the halls like a lost puppy. He nearly refused to go into a room that had either one of them in it, taking to hovering by the door for a moment before leaving once more.

Peter needed help, but he didn't want to ask either of these people for help, because he knew that they both had it worse. They were both literally tortured, and one of them turns into the goddamn Hulk. Peter's problems were nothing compared to theirs. It would be pointless.

He knew asking for help would make him a bother, so he just left it.

Even though he wouldn't be a bother at all.

 

Peter had been awake for a total of 196 hours when everyone came home. He hadn't moved for the last three days, so when Wanda saw him barrelling down the hallway, she knew that they were back.

Peter meant to run straight to Bucky, but he was busy. In fact, they all were. They were busy holding onto a man in a red suit, who was joking about how they should have a safe word if they were going to cuff him up.

The masked man stopped talking altogether when he looked in Peter's direction, but as soon as Bucky saw that Peter was being stared at, he punched the man in the gut and continued to drag him down the hallway.

Peter leaned close to Sam, who was like a brother to him. "Who the hell is that guy?"

"Mercenary. Wade Wilson, goes by Deadpool. Ex-military. He's a mutant."

"Like Wanda?"

"Yeah, something like that. Superhuman healing abilities. Shoot him, heals right up. Rip a limb off? Grows right back."

Peter's eyes lit up. "That's awesome!"

Sam chuckled as he took off his gloves. "It is, but don't let Steve hear you say that."

Peter nods, looking towards his father figures. "Was anyone hurt?"

Sam pulls his goggles off of his head. "It'd be easier to tell you who wasn't hurt. This guy was packin' a whole truckload of weapons. He wasn't slowing down either."

Peter nods, now nervous and fully aware of Nat's limp and how Steve had limited movement of his right arm. Peter felt the overwhelming need to physically injure this Wade guy. Though he knew he'd never get close enough to do anything. Not with the max security surrounding whatever cell they were going to put him in, if they were going to put him in a cell at all. The look on Tony's face made Peter wonder if they might just dig a hole and leave him in it.

Clint broke off from the group and when he turned, Peter could see the dried blood on his face and it made his heart drop. This was his family, and they were hurt. If they had just let him come along then maybe he could have taken the worst of it for them, and they'd all be okay.

Peter followed the group, even when the others broke away to go recoup. He followed Steve and Bucky and Nat and Tony down the long halls and into the elevator. In front of this man, they wouldn't show Peter any kind of affection, lest he try and use it against them.

Peter was their one collective weakness. That's why they left him at home. They'd spend their time looking after Peter rather than taking care of the bad guys. Bucky would turn back to killing in a heartbeat if it meant keeping Peter safe. He'd endure countless hours of Hydra torture to keep Peter safe. Natasha would go back to the Red Room and endure that pain over and over if it meant that nobody would lay a finger on the child she'd chosen to be her son.

Steve would go back to his pre-serum days when the cold nipped at his bones and burned his lungs. When his asthma was so bad he couldn't take a breath. He'd go back there if it meant Peter would be okay, and Tony? Nobody was quite sure what Tony would do for Peter. He was the least affectionate to him out of everyone in the group.

Once they reached the third basement level, they traveled down a couple more long hallways that Peter thought looked the same to all the others. Tony pressed a few buttons and a glass wall swung open. Bucky and Steve threw Deadpool into the room and Tony promptly closed the door.

Peter didn't know why, but something felt different now.


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Nat cuddle up with Peter for a night.

Peter was aware of one thing when he woke: he was alone. But that wasn't unusual for him, as he was quite used to being left on his own for long periods of time.

The unusual thing is that while two of his 'parents' were on base, neither of them came to his aid tonight. With Tony and Steve gone, that just left Bucky and Nat. Peter had made it clear to Vision and Friday both that if his parents were being... intimate, they were meant to be left alone. He looked up to see a figure in the doorway, shrouded in darkness and he flinched, scooting back in his bed until he collided with the wall.

The figure stepped forward and shushed him, and he recognized the voice instantly. Nat must have come down this way to check on him. Peter didn't speak Russian, but whatever she was saying to him was soothing. She sat down on the edge of his bed and the light from his lava lamp lit up her face. "быть спокойным маленьким."

She pulled back his covers and he scooted back down into them without a second thought. "You need to get some sleep, Peter. You're safe here."

"I can't sleep like this... I don't want to see it anymore."

She crawls onto the bed and sits with her back against the wall, which allows Peter to put his head in her lap. "What do you see, маленький паук?"

"I see everyone die... All the time. Torn apart, tossed around. Everyone... All of them. All of you."

Natasha is silent. She remembers the nightmares that plagued her once upon a time. They weren't much different really. But that was a long time ago, now she slept peacefully. Mostly.

"It'll be alright, маленький паук. They're just dreams. I'll stay right here tonight and let you sleep."

The way Peter nods and curls himself up against her legs makes her heart ache. She begins to play with his hair and wonder if this is what her child would have been like had she been allowed to have any. She thinks she hears him tell her goodnight, but with the way his face is smushed into her thigh she can't really tell. But that doesn't matter. All that matters is that she's here, and she'll have no problem killing anyone that comes near her Little Spider tonight.

Partway into the night, Bucky makes his way into Peter's room and takes his place next to the door, ready to end anyone that threatens his Spiders tonight. Bucky and Natasha have been together for a very long time, and he'd be damned if he let anything happen to her. He's fully aware that she can take care of herself, but he enjoys putting her first.

With the way she's taken to Peter, he's taken to putting Peter and Natasha both above himself.

She's still playing with Peter's hair when she looks up at him. "He sees us die, James. In his dreams."

He's silent for a moment, not sure of what to say. When he came back from Hydra the last time, sleeping wasn't an option. He felt he'd been asleep too long as it was, so he blatantly refused to go to bed until he passed out from exhaustion. Even at that, he never slept for long due to the dreams, or well, memories of the things he'd done coming back to haunt him.

He always woke with a jolt, and a quick reflex to hit whoever was too close. It made him feel awful that he'd hurt someone else. He was supposed to be getting better, and now he was. But Peter was having nightmares now. He'd become so claustrophobic that he got antsy standing in the elevator for more than three minutes at a time. It was awful to watch Peter suffer like that, and they all wished there was more that they could do.

"What about Wanda? Do you think she could help?"

Natasha shrugs. "We can ask, but I doubt Peter would like that. Besides, I'm not sure she could help for very long."

"What about Mantis?"

She shakes her head. "Off-planet."

He nods and from across the room, Natasha can hear the quiet whir of the metal plates in his arm shifting, grinding together. She didn't have to look to know he'd clenched his fist, angry that he couldn't help.

Their attention shifts to Natasha's lap when Peter flinches in his sleep. His brows are drawn up tightly and he looks pained. He twitches, arm pulling closer to his body, almost like he's trying to block something coming his way. Bucky stands, quietly padding over to the bed. Natasha shushes Peter gently, quietly telling him that they're here for him and that everything's going to be alright.

\----

The next morning Peter woke to the scariest Russian assassins sleeping next to him in his bed, and for a moment it freaked him out. It's not every day you see such frightening people laying around and looking like the sweetest people on Earth. Peter was lucky that way.

It was like an alarm going off in their heads, because in the next moment they were both waking up, instantly checking on the child lying between them.

"Hungry?"

Peter nodded as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and Bucky got up from the bed to go down to the kitchen. Peter followed, half leaning on Natasha as they made their way through the halls. As everyone on base knew, tired Peter was a clumsy Peter, and he often walked into things. Walls, furniture, other people. He once knocked into the counter and apologized to it, unaware that there were three other people in the kitchen to see it all unfold. Another time he ran into Vision and mistook him for a wall, but apologized anyway.

Today, the kitchen was empty, save for Mr. Banner who was drinking coffee and reading the paper. He was silent, like always, but Peter didn't miss the way Mr. Banner's eyes trailed over Natasha. He was in love with her, and Peter knew it. But he'd just have to get over it because there was no way Nat would ever leave Bucky. 

Bucky strolls right up to the stove and starts making breakfast for his Spiders, which consists of eggs and French toast. That's one thing Bucky can say about the future, is that there are a lot more ways to cook the same five things. Back in the day they just boiled everything and hoped to God it turned out okay.

Bucky liked cooking now that he was back. He cooked more often than not, and everyone was impressed with how quickly he was learning. He was learning at a pace faster than Steve when it came to cooking. Bucky denies the credit, telling everyone that he just watches a lot of the cooking channel in his free time- which he has a lot of now. That's also how he managed to catch up on almost 80 years of pop culture references and music.

Bucky also makes a plate for Mr. Banner, insisting that he doesn't eat enough for how high his metabolism is. Mr. Banner thanks him quietly and begins eating. Natasha doesn't begin eating until Peter does.

Later, after Bucky and Nat leave the kitchen, if Peter tells Banner to stop staring at his mother, well, nobody has to know.


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter roams the halls one night after a nightmare and finds himself turning to the strangest person for help.

It was hard enough trying to get some sleep with all of your parents on base, but it was another thing entirely for all four of them to be away at once.

Peter was getting frustrated by his lack of sleep. It made schoolwork hard to focus on and it made training difficult. He felt like there was something wrong with him, that he was a freak that couldn't ever get any damn shuteye. He felt like the others were judging him, Mr. Banner, Wanda, even Scott when he was on base.

Tonight was one of those nights that everyone was gone. Nearly the whole team was away and it left the base eerily silent. Peter sat up from his bed and pulled his blanket tight around his shoulders. He clutched his pillow to his chest and went in search of a different place to sleep.

He was trying an experiment. He thought maybe sleeping elsewhere might help him sleep better.

So he roamed the halls for what seemed like hours. He twisted and turned through different floors and passed through enough doors he figured he'd be lost from now on. He strolled right up to a glass wall that he felt he only recognized from what seemed like a dream he'd been in so long ago.

He almost didn't remember coming here at all. But the longer he stood in front of the glass, watching the man in red, the calmer he felt. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"Does the Little Spider have troubles sleeping?"

Peter felt for sure that the Merc was going to make fun of him, and as he turned to leave, he heard, "Wait. Despite my steely exterior, I'm actually bored as fuck down here by myself."

Peter sat down on the floor in front of the wall and hugged his pillow tighter.

"You have nightmares?" Peter just nodded.

"It's alright. I get them too."

Peter looked up. "What are yours about?"

"Not really important, Spider-Babe. You should try and get some rest. You look like shit. Everything is going to be okay."

Too tired to give a damn about any kind of comment made about his appearance, he nodded and put his pillow on the floor. He curled up and pulled his blanket so it covered his whole body, just the way he liked and let his eyes droop closed.

Somehow he felt more relaxed. "My name's Peter."

He heard the Merc laugh before letting out a breath. "I'm Wade. Good to meet you Petey."

\----

When Peter woke, he was tucked safely in his bed and for once he felt well rested. He changed and ventured out into the hallway to see Sam coming, looking battered and bruised. Sam looked... Almost frightened.

"Sam! Sam, hey, what happened?"

Sam shook his head but allowed Peter to run beside him. "Gotta find Banner, Bucky's hurt real bad."

Peter stopped running with Sam and did a complete 180 to go back the way Sam came from. He didn't think he'd ever run faster in his life. Right now nothing scared him more than Bucky being hurt.

He made his way outside to where the jet was and pushed his way past Scott and Wanda. Nat was in the process of standing Bucky up, letting her body take the weight off of his injured leg.

He looked like hell, but then again so did everyone. Peter stood on Bucky's other side and helped take the rest of the weight. The 90-year-old granddad was nothing between the two of them. They got him inside and onto Tony's makeshift stretcher. From there they took him to the infirmary where Vision and Mr. Dr. Strange were waiting. Peter thought it was nice to have an actual Doctor on the team now.

The adults, like always, pushed Peter from the room so they could do what they had to do, but Peter sat outside the door the whole time. He almost wanted to cry, but he knew that Bucky would want him to stay strong... Especially since Steve was already crying.

Steve, despite his steely exterior, had a very soft heart. He never let his emotions show on the surface until it came to his family. Tony called Bucky 'Tin Man' once and, let's just say he never made that mistake again. Steve has always felt very deeply, and he's always tried to hide it. But everyone knows that when it comes to the people he loves, Steve is an emotional mess.

So is Natasha. To be clear, she pretends not to have any feelings whatsoever. She puts up a front, a wall, a shield. She hides her emotions away because she was trained not to feel anything at all. The Red Room stripped her of everything that she once was or ever could have been. Natasha never told anyone in detail about The Red Room, but Peter read all kinds of stories about a myth of an experiment and he knew it was true. And Bucky had been there once upon a time, and saved Natasha from whatever fate staying would have held for her.

Bucky, being the oldest of them all, took on a caring role. Once upon a time, he was also a brother, and that really showed through sometimes when he let it. As Peter thought of all of the people living on base, he couldn't help but wonder about the Butterfly Effect and where each of these people would be if it weren't for James Barnes.


	4. four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> welcome back to hell, or the one where Peter returns to Midtown for his Sophomore year of high school.

Spending a summer in upstate New York at the Avengers base was easy. He got to spend time with people who had no problem looking after him and were able to keep his abilities and nightmares in check.

The hard part was now returning to Midtown High to go through his Sophomore year. He rejoined band and academic decathlon at the end of last year, and now with MJ as the lead, things were kinda looking up for Peter. He didn't feel like an outcast as much as he did last year.

Except, he saw the way Flash looked at him when he arrived in the sleek black car Mr. Happy drove him in. He saw the way Ned's jaw dropped when he saw Peter's new shoes that cost more than Ned's whole back to school shopping list did.

It reminded Peter of the look on his own face when Tony re-did his suit for him. When he did all that he could to help the focus in his vision once he knew that Peter had troubles focusing on all of the input his brain was receiving at once.

They were the only ones to look at him any differently, which was good. He could handle Flash being a dick, and he could handle Ned being... Ned. He could handle getting shoved into a locker and he could handle getting a sandwich at the newly rebuilt Delmar's after school.

He handled everything a new year had to throw at him... For a couple of weeks anyway. What he didn't handle very well was when some new kids showed up and dialed the bullying up to an 11.

The tripping picked up, as did being thrown into lockers, down stairs and nearly out of a window.

Flash took up the mantle as their leader, and soon there was a whole plethora of kids calling him 'Penis Parker'.

He didn't dare say anything to the school board, and though he knew he could take each and every one of them on in a fight if it came right down to it, he didn't want to hit anyone back either. He knew that if he saw any of his parents and had to explain that he'd been getting in fights at school, he'd be dead. Not just dead, but quadruply dead.

Actually, maybe more dead than that even, considering that Steve might want to kill him three or four times on his own.

There was no hiding it one day when he came home with a busted lip and blackened eye. He hid the black eye with sunglasses, hungover Tony style. In order to get to his room, he had to get past all four parents though, which obviously didn't work.

Bucky noticed the busted lip and saw the bruise out of the corner of Peter's sunglasses. Peter had already made it past him, but not past the others. "Natalia."

Peter came to an abrupt stop when Natasha stepped in front of him. He looked down at the floor and didn't even try to protest when she pulled the sunglasses off of his face. The room went silent. Tony was staring with wide eyes, mentally trying to decide who the hell thought they had rights to put their hands on Peter.

Steve looked shocked, and Bucky's jaw was set, and with the way Natasha was staring, almost emotionless, Peter was sure that he was in for a world of hurt. She reached up to touch his face but he flinched away from her fingertips. That one small action clued in everyone in the room just how bad all these kids really were to Peter.

Bucky looked damn near murderous. Natasha just looked sad for Peter.

"Я убью всех, кто положил руки моему сыну." Peter heard Bucky growl. He didn't know what it meant, but it sounded dangerous. Peter quickly learned that Bucky reverted to Russian when he was angry, but just as easily switched between languages when he was pissed. Like, really pissed off, Bucky will switch between three or four languages in the same sentence. Somehow it comes out making perfect sense to Natasha.

\----

After the black eye incident, Peter's parents took to driving him to school. The day Bucky gave Peter a ride was the first time Peter'd been left alone in weeks. Bucky drove him to school on Steve's motorcycle and just 'happened' to be wearing a sleeveless shirt. Bucky was the most threatening looking of all of Peter's parents. Everyone knew Tony was rich, and if they wanted their projects funded they needed to chill the hell out.

Steve looked nice enough, but his biceps were a bit threatening. Peter was pretty sure that one of the girls started to cry because Steve gave them the American Dad Seal of Disapproval™. That's what Ned called that look, and he wasn't exactly wrong.

Natasha was the one who took to talking to the school board, and if she leaned threateningly over the Principal's desk and mentioned beating him the way Peter was being beaten if something didn't change, well, that wasn't anybody's business.

After Natasha came is when it got worse.

"Awe, Penis Parker needs his mommy- oh wait. Oh, isn't she dead, Parker? She is, isn't she Parker?"

Peter stopped dead in his tracks. Ned was sure he'd have broken his neck if he turned around any faster. Now, until this point, it could never be said that Peter Parker had ever mistreated his school books or physically harmed another student. At this moment, however, Peter dropped his books and threw himself forward. 

He knew how to throw his weight around, and when his body collided with the other kid's, they went straight to the floor.

Ned had been giving a number to use solely in emergencies like this one, and he wasted no time (well, a little time) in pulling out his phone and making the phone call that none of Peter's parents wanted to receive. "Hi, it's Ned. Peter just started dogging on one of these kids, I think someone should come get him."

Nobody had ever seen Peter Parker get angry. Now they're all wishing they hadn't. See, when he was angry, Peter wasn't the same. He wasn't pulling his punches to avoid causing a serious injury like regular Peter was. No, this Peter didn't care if anybody got hurt. Right now it's what he wanted. He wanted to make this kid hurt for even mentioning his mother to begin with.

Peter only stopped when he reared back to swing, and someone caught his arm. He looked up, expecting one of his parents. What he was met with was a scarred face, hidden by a lowered baseball cap.

"Let him go," was all Wade had to say before Peter was standing.

Peter wasn't even concerned with how Wade was here, or how he escaped. All he was concerned with was picking up his books and getting the hell out of there as fast as humanly possible.

Wade and Ned shared a look, and then he was following Peter out of the building. Peter and Wade both knew that Peter's 'parents' would be having words with them later, and in Wade's case, maybe a few bullets.

All that mattered right now was Peter.


	5. five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter spends an afternoon with Wade in the big city (part 1)

"How did you escape?"

The pair rounded a corner. "That's not important. What's important is that I got you out of there before any of your parents showed up."

"Did you kill them?!" Peter threw Wade up against the nearest wall and Wade put his hands up in defense.

"Woah, hey, no! No, they're all totally alive. I mean, they were when I left! I left them all alive." Peter's chest was heaving. The thought of losing another set of parents angered him to no end.

Wade gently grabbed onto Peter's wrist and tugged until he released Wade's collar. "Your parents are fine."

Peter leans closer, voice dropping an octave. "They'd better be."

Wade would be lying if he said that Peter's defensiveness of his parents (and the way he looked when he was pissed) didn't get him a little turned on.

\----

New York was large and full of way too many people to count. New York City was even worse. People lined the streets, packed in close to each other and spoke loudly over the roar of the city.

But it had really fucking good food stands. Hot dogs, tacos, snow-cones, you name it. Wade, had an endless appetite, and Peter hadn't eaten since the day before. He let Wade buy him a snow-cone.

Peter settled for a simple wedding cake flavor but Wade got an ungodly mix of coconut and watermelon and pineapple. Wade insists that if Peter winced any harder, he'd break something.

New York City had a lot of one other thing: construction.

Forklifts and bulldozers and cranes lifting hundreds of pounds of metal and cement slabs way above the heads of the city-goers.

Peter made the mistake of looking up next to one of these construction sights. Flashes of being back in that building came to Peter's mind. Flashes of being trapped.

 

He felt suffocated. His own voice echoed in his ears. "Hello? Hello! Please, hey! Hey, please! I'm down here! I'm down here! I'm stuck. I'm stuck! I can't move!"

He could hear his own desperation, playing back on a loop inside of his head. "Hello! Please, hey!"

 

"Peter!" He blinked and saw that he was pressed between Wade and a concrete wall. Wade's eyes searched Peter's face. "Petey are you with me?"

Peter nodded and Wade hesitated before letting Peter go.

Peter didn't miss the somehow comforting grip Wade had on his shoulders or anything. Not at all.

Even once he let go, Wade didn't move away from Peter. He didn't stop being concerned. "That was a flashback, wasn't it?"

Peter swallowed, then nodded. "Yes."

"I was like that when I first had my traumatic flashbacks too... Was it what you dream about?"

Peter, who had zoned out again, blinked. "What?"

"Your flashback. Is it what you dream about?"

Peter thought about it for a second. Had he dreamt about that night?

"Only sometimes."

Wade seemed lost in thought for a minute. "Do I need to take you home?"

Peter frantically shook his head. "I can't... Not yet. They'll ask about the fight, and-"

"Hey, Petey, hey." Wade grabbed onto his shoulders again to stop the boy from panicking. "It's okay. We don't have to go back yet."

Peter was short on breath. He could FEEL all the rubble on top of him. He could smell the settling dust, the metallic smell of his own blood. He could taste the copper on his tongue.

He could hear the crashing metal that he imagined when he thought of the way his parents died. It'd been a plane crash when Peter was only four. Both caskets had to be closed.

Wade shook him once. "Peter. Peter it's going to be okay."

Peter frantically looked around the alley Wade had drug them into and saw all the people passing out on the street. "I wanna go. There's- There's too many- Wade, I can't."

Wade seemed to understand Peter's babbling. He took off his backpack and helped Peter strap it on, letting the bag act as a weight to keep Peter grounded while Wade led them through the city. Peter's phone kept vibrating in his back pocket and Wade had no problem grabbing the annoying little thing and turning it off completely.

Peter needed time to be alone. Well, alone as Wade would allow him to be right now was as alone as he was going to get for a while. Peter knew it was only a matter of minutes before Tony started pinging Peter's phone off of nearby cell towers and started a search to find him. He'd left the school over an hour ago, but he knew that at least one of his parents was in the area already looking for him.

Which parent, he didn't know. Whichever came to get him when Ned called... Speaking of, Peter needed to have a talk with Ned about that one.


	6. six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter spends the afternoon in the big city with Wade (part 2)

Peter wasn't zoned in all of the way. He was aware of the weight on his shoulders from his books in Wade's backpack. He could hear the cars passing on the street. He could feel Wade's grip on his arm as he led them through the concrete jungle.

But he was also aware of nothing at the same time. He missed the way people were looking at him, how they were looking at Wade. He missed how worried Wade looked. He missed it for a solid two minutes when Wade pulled them into another alleyway and pressed him up against a dumpster.

When Peter zoned back in, Wade was leaning against the wall opposite him. He wasn't trying to talk (which for Wade is a first) to Peter at all. He was just watching him. Checking on him. Some part of Peter's mind made note that Wade was taking better care of him right now than Tony ever had. Peter mentally scolded himself because Tony'd taken such good care of him. He moved him onto the base, made his suits, gave him a place to train... But it was also Tony's fault he'd almost died in that warehouse.

Peter shook all thoughts from his mind. The last thing he needed to think about was Tony fucking Stark. He doubted Tony was actually looking for him, to begin with. He probably had Friday running all the scenarios and diagnostics and statistics on everything. Friday was probably pinging his cell and calculating the percentage of Peter coming home safely. It was likely that all Tony was doing is telling Friday to look for Peter.

Tony was probably wasting his time jerking off while the other parents worried about Peter. Natasha was probably running statistics of her own while she drove around to find him. Peter didn't doubt that she was the one to come and get him from school.

The problem with that is simple: Wade and Peter were way ahead of whoever came to get him. It was pretty early in the morning when the fight broke out, and it's a two-hour drive from the base to the school. Peter had been waking up at 4:30 in the mornings that he slept so he could go to school and be there.

Regardless of who'd been coming to collect him, they were obviously too late.

"Where are we?"

Wade looked around. "It'd take the world's greatest detective to find us. And I don't see Bruce Wayne around anywhere, so I'd say we're good for a while."

"Bruce Wayne never would have given us the chance to leave the school."

Wade pointed at Peter in agreement. "You got me there."

Peter slipped Wade's bag off of his shoulders and sat down on it when it landed on the ground. Wade didn't even look phased by this.

Then again, if he'd been phased, he wasn't going to say anything anyways. With Peter in this state, the last thing Wade wanted to do was put the kid farther off, and scolding him would do just that.

Wade knows what it's like, living with something traumatic like that. He'd had a habit of pushing it away and pretending it never happened, but Peter was just a kid. When kids go through trauma, especially like nearly being crushed to death, it sticks with them. It's not something they push away, and certainly not this early. It's been four months. Which means four months of learning to deal with newly-developed claustrophobia and having night-terrors out the ass.

Wade didn't mind saying the kid had it bad. And if Wade is saying it, then it has to mean something. Sure, it wasn't the end of the world, but Wade knew it might feel like that to Peter right now. This was all the kid knew now. He knew how to be a genius in school and how to be Spider-Man and now he knew how to be terrified of himself. He knew how to be put down by the adults that didn't find him capable of doing more than just being a kid.

Wade knew that Tony'd put the kid down more than once over something like this, even if he didn't mean to. He knew that Peter was fucking terrified of Tony Stark. Wade just didn't know why. He'd understand if Peter was afraid of the little redhead or even the dude with the badass metal arm, or even Captain fucking America because Christ, his muscles are threatening.

But Tony Stark? All Tony Stark had was brains and money. What was so scary about that? Sure, Stark could buy Peter's whole block in Queens in under five minutes, and his tech was out of this fucking world, but Tony Stark wasn't scary. Not to anybody. No, Tony Stark was rude and arrogant and irrational. Wade began seriously wondering what Tony Stark had done to scare Peter.

Now, Wade didn't have any facts that Peter was even afraid of Stark at all, but he had his suspicions. The voices wondered if maybe Stark had knocked the kid around before. Wade shot that idea down immediately because he knew well enough from just watching Peter interact with the others that if Tony Stark ever laid so much as a finger on Peter Parker's head, everyone on that base would gladly rip him to shreds without a second thought.

All of Wade's deductions were being made based on when he saw them all for the first time, not just while allowing himself to be captured, but once they returned to base. He saw how easily the adults glided past Peter. Wade understood. They thought he'd use Peter as leverage against them. Find a way to endanger him and they'd have to back down to keep him safe.

But right now, all Wade's mind was focused on was keeping Peter safe anyways. The voices agreed, Peter needed him right now. He wasn't used to being needed, so it was strange to sit and know someone was relying on him to be the sane one for the moment.

Wade knelt down to be eye-level with Peter. "What do you like?"

Peter looked confused. "What?"

Wade rolled his eyes like it should have been obvious. "Cards, music, video games, what calms you down when you get like this?"

Peter took a moment to think, what DID he do when he got like this? There'd only been a handful of moments where he'd had to deal with this alone. Once he moved onto the base, he'd only been alone for a couple of days before Bucky took to taking care of him. After that, Peter was rarely dealing by himself. There was always someone. But what had he done before?

"Music, I guess. But you turned my phone off."

Wade reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pink iPod. "Give me your headphones."

Peter passed them over without hesitation and Wade plugged them in. Wade put the iPod into Peter's hands and told him he could listen to whatever he wanted.

There wasn't any shortage of anything to listen to, as the list ranged from The Cranberries to Wham! and everything in-between.

Peter just played the first song that looked moderately appealing. He knew he'd zone out several more times, therefore wouldn't hear the music anyways. He trusted Wade to look after him while he was in this state. Not many people had the misfortune of watching Peter like this, as he usually sat alone in his bedroom.

"Stark needs to pay more attention to this kid." Wade sighs as he scratches the place his eyebrows once grew.

'Stark doesn't care about the kid. He only cares about what the kid can do.' He thinks. 'Stark is looking at this kid like a science experiment.'

He felt himself getting angry at the thought of someone thinking of Peter like an experiment. He remembers what it's like to be looked at like that. Like some weird creature of science. Like some school project you make in your basement. He knows what it's like to be at the hands of 'scientists' that think they can fix you. He remembers what it's like to suffer the torture of being 'fixed' and sometimes he regrets allowing himself to go through that. Most days he thinks he should have just let himself die.

Plenty of people would be better off without him, he thinks. Except now he isn't sure. If he had died, who'd be here for Peter right now?

He looked down at the little spider and suddenly wanted to protect him with everything he had, even if it meant his life.


	7. seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter find out which parent came for Peter. It doesn't go very well.

Wade and Peter roamed for a while after leaving the alleyway finally. Well, Peter roamed, Wade followed.

Wade was busy being on the lookout for one of Peter's parents. Though either Wade wasn't paying enough attention, or this guy was just that good, because when the man with the metal arm showed up, Wade never saw him coming.

Peter jumped and ripped his earbuds out quick enough to hear Bucky shouting something in Russian.

"You know, I don't speak Russian, but he sounds pissed, Petey."

"Yeah, no shit." Peter walks forward to intercept Bucky, who's on his way to Wade.

Peter's Spidey-Senses were tingling like crazy. Someone was going to die. Death was the last thing he needed right now. 

Bucky reared back to swing, but Peter grabbed onto the metal arm and pulled just enough to stop Bucky mid-swing. Bucky turned and he looked furious, and Peter didn't miss the gun strapped to his thigh or the knife strapped to his ankle. Bucky, in his fit of rage, grabbed Peter by the hood of his jacket and started dragging him to the car.

See, Peter doesn't like hitting people, not really. But he really doesn't like being pushed around either. He brings his elbow back and it collides with Bucky's gut. "Let me go!"

Being choked by his jacket was bringing back the unsavory memories he'd just shook less than an hour ago. His eyes went wide as he flashed back to being crushed once more, suffocated by the rubble.

Wade must have noticed because Peter heard a gun cock. "Let him go."

Bucky just stared. "Don't tell me what to do."

Peter clawed at the metal hand gripping his hood. His hands began to shake. "Let me- Please, let go."

"You're scaring him!" Wade snapped, and the thought of scaring Peter seemed to be enough to snap Bucky back because in the next second he was freeing Peter from his grip. He was staring at Peter as he crumpled to the ground, but his free hand pulled his gun and pointed it at Wade.

He wasn't looking, but they all knew that he wouldn't miss if he pulled the trigger. "Peter? Peter are you alright?"

Peter wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew that he was safe. He knew that he was out in the open with plenty of space, but he still felt trapped. The world felt too small. Like there wasn't any space for anything real. Like there wasn't any space for him at all.

Wade took a step forward and Bucky's attention snapped to him. "Don't move."

"I'm just trying to help."

Bucky didn't move. Peter whimpered. He could see the rock falling. He could feel the weight of it on top of him. Wade moved forward again, and Bucky shot him in the thigh. Peter flinched at the gunshot and Wade kept moving forward anyway, finally falling to the ground next to Peter.

"Petey. Hey. Look at me."

Peter looked up, eyes brimmed with tears.

"You're safe."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. "It's too- Everything, it's- Wade, it's too small."

Wade shook his head, though Peter couldn't see him. "The world is massive. It's so big. The cities, the ocean, space! You like space, don't you Peter?"

Absentmindedly, Peter nodded. He was trying to imagine the stars at night and all the planets and the moon through his telescope.

"Think about how fucking HUGE space is. Peter, the world is so big."

\----

The moment Bucky returns home with Peter: chaos. Tony is shouting about how they were called by no less than four people, how five different machines had been sent out to fly over the entire state of New York, and how Peter was lucky if he was ever going to step foot off the base again, because the one time he leaves, he ends up with a deadly assassin. Steve is giving the stare, and Natasha is dead silent. Peter can feel himself beginning to panic again because the longer Tony goes on, the louder he gets. He's walking around the room, arms waving wildly as he speaks and he's getting closer to Peter as he goes along.

Peter takes a step backward once Tony's only a couple of feet away, but Tony follows him step for step. Peter doesn't try to speak, he's sure his voice wouldn't work now anyway. Steve's expression is softening, he can see Peter's panic. Steve reaches an arm out towards Tony, but he isn't listening. He hasn't even stopped talking yet.

"Mr. Stark, please- I'm sorry."

"No, this is where you keep your mouth shut! I'm not finished! You-"

"Tony, that's enough." Steve used his Captain America tone. Tony kept on not listening.

"You blatantly disregarded everything I told you before you even went back there, what makes you think-"

"Tony."

Peter whimpered. Tony was only a couple of feet away now.

"I oughta lock you up just like that assassin back there, because that's what you could have been today Peter! That's what you-"

Natasha stepped forward at the same time that Bucky stepped in front of Peter. "Tony!"

The room was silent for just a moment before Peter let out a sob. Tony's face fell, as did his anger. He never meant to make the kid cry.

Steve began to look angry with Tony, and Bucky already looked downright furious.

Peter was shaking violently, tears streaming down his face. "I- I'll be-" He hiccuped between sobbing and trying to force the words out. "I'll be good! I'm-" He broke off into a fit of sobs, but it didn't take a genius to realize that he was about to apologize.

If Wade were here to see this, he'd be furious.

Natasha brushed past Tony and Bucky both to pull Peter into her arms. She shushed him gently as she led him from the room.

Tony looked lost. "God, I really am just like my father, aren't I?"

Bucky was quick to agree. "It's funny. I didn't like your father either."

That made Tony hurt, and that's exactly what Bucky wanted. He wanted Tony to hurt right now for those things he said to Peter. 

Steve sighs. "Peter is just a child, Tony, he's fragile. You have to watch how you talk to the kid."

"My old man used to yell at me and I turned out fine."

"No, Tony, you turned into a man that yells at already broken children. He had a lapse in judgment, and it happens to everyone. The Stark's aren't exactly infallible now, are they?"

Tony bit his tongue.

"You're going to apologize to Peter later." Bucky said before leaving the room.

Steve sighed and pulled Tony close. "I'm not saying I'm done being mad about this, because I'm not."

Tony didn't care if Steve was mad still, he was just glad to be in his arms.


	8. eight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade suffers the punishment of leaving the base and helping Peter run off.

Each strike stung worse than the last. Each blow landing like a bomb to the Earth. The skin ripped on impact, the sores festered and bled. Lips split open and eyes swelled shut. Teeth and blood fell to the floor and bruises covered him head to toe.

And then he healed. Blood dried on his body when the skin grew shut. Bruises faded and teeth regrew.

And through all of the pain, and the hours of torture, not once did he plead. Never begged for an end. Never once did he attempt to fight back, or even move.

Each new strike was like a pebble into water, a ripple that crossed his whole body. Yet he refused to fight back. Sam Wilson, AKA The Falcon, and Wanda Maximoff, AKA Scarlet Witch, had never done anything to Wade before. Even now they were just doing their jobs.

Excruciating as it were, he found it pointless to fight. Which is a first for Wade because, if caught off guard, he'd fight his own reflection.

Wade needed to be strong, for when Peter needed him next. He was sure Peter would need him again, especially if he was the only teenager in a compound full of adults like Tony Stark.

He didn't even attempt any witty one-liners or jokes. He knew it would just make it worse.

\----

Natasha led Peter through the halls. Her gentle voice soothed Peter's hysterics, but only for a moment. "Where's Wade?"

Her brows pull together. "Wade?"

He nods quickly. "What are they gonna do to him?"

"You should be more concerned with yourself, Peter."

"I can't! He- He helped me! He was there! What are they going to do to him?"

She shook her head, having no idea. She would've shot him and gone on her way. She knew he wouldn't die, but at least it would hurt a bit.

Peter turned on his heel to run to the basement, and Natasha followed suit. Peter, as he ran, was starting to have flashbacks again.

\----

The doors at the end of the hall burst open, revealing an exhausted looking Peter Parker, with Natasha in tow. Sam was sure that this would spell trouble, and he knew he was right the minute the web-slinger threw himself up against the glass wall that separated him from them. "Stop it! Stop it, leave him alone!"

Wade rose his head, blood dripping down his face and just smiled. "It's okay Peter."

Peter looked near ready to cry. "Stop! Sam! S- Wanda, please!"

"Sorry Peter, Tony's orders." Sam shrugged before delivering another blow so violent Peter flinched. Peter turned around to stare at a camera on the ceiling. "Leave him alone! Make them stop!"

Natasha quickly realized that Peter was freaking out about more than just Wade, and told Sam and Wanda to cease with beating the assassin. When the pair opened the door to come out, Peter slipped in.

He didn't mind the blood or the smell that it caused. All he did was fall down onto the floor and use Wade's lap as a pillow.


	9. nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finally goes out on a mission. The trip does not go how he expected it to.

Peter Parker was finally going out on a mission. It was nothing close to the mission he wanted, but it was a mission nonetheless.

He was on a mission with Sam and Steve. A small infiltration to a base somewhere in the middle of Russia. There were only meant to be a few people inside of the base. It was supposed to be a quick mission. 

Get in, get the data, get out.

Peter was fast. Not fast like Steve, but still faster than Sam, though he was a close second.

Peter was not, however, bullet fast. And these men had guns. Like, big guns. Like they had guns the size of Peter's leg and it was exciting but so scary at the same time.

Steve and Sam weren't phased by guns. They were in the military. They held guns and listened to gunshots left and right during each and every day of battle they endured. They listened to grenades and land mines blow up their comrades and watched the blood flow from the bodies of the fallen.

Peter hadn't seen a whole lot of guns outside of video games.

\----

The room was large. Giant walls of wet stone stretched out into the space where the lights would not reach. Crates upon crates of weapons lined these walls, the words 'fragile' and 'explosives' stamped onto the side of each one.

One wrong move would send the room up in smoke and flames.

In the middle of the room were three trucks, loaded for max weight and heavily armed. These were battering rams, meant to plow down everything in their path.

Surrounding those trucks? Over three dozen armed men and women clad in bulletproof vests. As if Captain America used guns.

Peter checked over his web-slingers just as he was struck by the realization that his suit was not bulletproof like Tony's was. He didn't have a metal arm like Bucky, or a shield like Steve. Even Sam had his wings.

All Peter had was his self-designed webs and the fear of death drilled into his brain.

He said nothing to Sam or Steve.

When Steve nodded at him from his place across the span of the doorway, Peter nodded back and crawled up the wall. When in position, he webbed the hands of five or six people before the bullets were aimed in his general direction.

Steve's shield bounced off of one of the trucks and swept a woman's legs out from underneath her. Sam kicked a man while he passed through the air. Peter jumped from the ceiling onto one of the trucks. All he could think about is what would happen were one of the boxes of weapons to explode. About how the walls would all cave in around them.

Suddenly, Peter couldn't breathe. Not for lack of trying, however.

He tensed up and lay flat on his back on the top of the truck. He could hear the bullets and he could hear Steve's shield. He could not hear Sam very well.

He looked over the edge of the truck and dove forward to swing between Sam and a woman that had him at gunpoint.

Peter kicked the woman back and she sprawled across the concrete. Peter webbed her down and then swung off once more.

 

It was only when the fight was over and his adrenaline died down that he felt the stinging pain in his side. When he looked down, he saw the blood seeping through his suit. He pulled on his jacket and said nothing once more.


	10. ten.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's parents find out that he's been wounded, oops.
> 
> Gasp! A double update has appeared!

Once the data and weapons were confiscated, Sam, Steve, and Peter returned to home base.

Steve noted that Peter looked pale, but Sam thought they oughta chalk it up to that having been Peter's first mission. Peter agreed that he was a little out of it, but only he knew why.

As the day progressed, and Peter helped unload the crates from the jet, he began to look paler. Tony chalked it up to it being all the 'excitement' from the guns.

With his hoodie zipped up, he went with Sam and Steve to fill out the mission report. Peter swayed the longer he stood. Steve decided that it was because Peter needed to rest, and told him to go lay down when they were finished.

Peter, however, did not go to rest. He went instead down the hall and into the kitchen. He was pained but he was hungry. He didn't want to mention the injury, but Wanda noted his pain and discomfort the moment he walked into the room.

She and Vision were in the middle of their weekly cooking lesson, so Peter just grabbed an apple that he ended up never eating.

\----

Peter went to his room and stripped out of his hoodie and suit. He could see the bloodstain. He tossed his clothes onto the floor and went into the bathroom.

In the mirror, he could see it. His face was pale, sunken in. He looked like he hadn't eaten in so long and that he hadn't slept for longer.

He let his eyes travel down his chest and to his side, where the wound was. He let out a long breath that hurt him so badly he whimpered. Finally alone, he could let out all the pained noises he'd been keeping in.

He dug into the cabinet and pulled out the rubbing alcohol and the first aid kit. He'd stocked his with a needle and thread for just such an emergency.

With another deep breath, the poured the alcohol onto the wound and let out a soft cry from the added sting.

He took the tweezers in hand. His spidey-senses were tingling worse than ever. Every bit of Peter's being knew that this was a bad idea, but what choice did he have?

He wished he could say that he'd never had to dig a bullet out of his own skin before. The last time he'd done so was in May's bathroom. It took him three hours to finally remove the bullet and another hour to clean up afterward. Thank God May had been out that day.

Peter didn't realize that his spidey-senses weren't tingling because of the wound, but because Bucky was standing slack-jawed behind him.

When Peter saw him in the mirror, he froze. Bucky had shushed him before he even got the chance to ask that he didn't tell anyone.

Bucky took the tweezers in his metal hand and knelt down to have a better view of the wound. Peter sucked in a breath as the tweezers touched his skin.

He put his hand on Bucky's shoulder, where the metal met the flesh, and squeezed.

Bucky did not react to the touch in the same way he normally would have. Instead, he put more focus into removing the bullet from Peter's side. 

It wasn't until he'd removed the foreign object that Bucky realized the bullet was in pieces.

He knew Peter would protest everything that had anything to do with anyone else finding out about his wound, and so Bucky just sighed.

He had to do what he had to do, so when Peter turned around... Bucky hit him. Right in the space where the head meets the neck. Peter went out like a light and fell like a sack of potatoes into Bucky's arms.

Buck looked at the ceiling. "Friday. Alert the others to meet me in the medical bay, please."

\----

When Peter woke, the lights were blinding. The pain in his side had dimmed, but the pain in his head only increased the longer he looked at the adults standing over him.

Bucky was off to the side, leaning against the wall next to the door. He'd done his part. He'd brought Peter in for the help that Peter himself would have refused if given the choice.

On the wall across from Bucky were the x-rays of the bullet fragments that had been lodged in Peter's body.

Next to him was a small tray covered in bloody bandages and a bowl with little silver pieces in it. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they'd once belonged to a bullet.

Directly above him was Mister Doctor Strange, looking like a worried mom. Peter's actual worried mom didn't look so much worried as disappointed. Her fiery hair was no match for the burning anger in her eyes.

Steve looked... Sad? Upset? He was wearing his Press Conference Face™ and it made Peter worry. Next to Steve, however, was a very pissed off looking Tony Stark.


	11. eleven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony pops off at Steve, Peter pops back off at Tony.
> 
> A side note, if anyone has Instagram, feel free to add me @ xxcreate.your.own.realityxx and send me a message letting me know you read this story and I'll make sure to add you back!

Instead of blowing up at Peter, like everyone thought he might, Tony turned on his heel to face Steve. "You got him shot!"

Steve looked bewildered, though his posture was rigid, firm. He was still like a wall and his voice was cold as ice. "I got him shot?"

Bucky rose his gaze from the floor and let it settle on the men in front of him. He quickly glanced at Natasha who just shook her head. They weren't going to interfere. If Tony and Steve were going to be at each other's throats then so be it.

"Yes! YOU insisted on taking him on the mission, YOU took him into the warehouse, and YOU let him get shot!"

Steve rose a brow. "Oh, so now I LET him get shot? Is that it?"

Bucky let out a breath and scratched the back of his neck. Steven looked a little tense.

"Yes! You took him out on a mission even after I told you not to! He wasn't ready!"

"He's been ready for months, Tony! You're the one who wasn't ready."

Tony stood still, but Steve kept on going. "You've kept him locked up on this base for months! You haven't taken him anywhere, you haven't let him go anywhere, and you've sectioned off a whole list of places he isn't allowed to go! Tony, he's a kid and you're not letting him have any fun. You're not letting him do what he knows he can do."

"Obviously he knows he can take a bullet."

"You're still on about blaming me for that, aren't you?"

"You're damn right I am! If you had left him here like I told you to, he'd be fine!"

"Newsflash, not everything is about you, Stark. You're not always gonna get what you want."

Tony shook his head. "I don't think you're fit to look after Peter."

"Mr. Stark, that's enough!"

All eyes in the room turned to Peter where he was now sitting up. He looked awful, as does anyone who spent hours bleeding out. Tony looked a little shocked that Peter was talking back to him, as he never usually had the guts to do so.

"It isn't Steve's fault. We got bad information, which, if I recall correctly, came from you." Nat looked away to hide a small smile.

"Someone was bound to be hurt anyway, and I'm just glad that it ended up being me and not one of them. They're two valuable members of the team, and like you always say, I'm just a kid." He slid off of the table and put a hand over his stitches. He got close to Tony, just inches away. "If the only thing I can do for this team is take a bullet, then so be it."


	12. twelve.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's parents start to worry that he might be suicidal.
> 
> Another double update since the last chapter was so short!

Peter left the room and each of the adults looked at one another in a mix of shock and worry.

Peter was too willing to be hurt in place of another member, and it was a bit scary to think about. Knowing that Peter would rather be hurt than let anyone else be hurt was either heartwarming or heartbreaking. To know that Peter would gladly take a bullet for any member of the team was frightening enough, because how many of them would say the same? How many members of the team would take a bullet for another? Natasha would, as would Steve and Bucky. Sam admits that it wouldn't be the first time, and God knows Clint would do it in a heartbeat.

But Tony Stark could not with 100% certainty say that he would take a bullet for any one member of this team.

Sam felt horrible about this whole thing. He'd taken to blaming himself the moment Bucky revealed that Peter had even been injured in the first place. Peter swung between Sam and the Hydra agent. Based on the way the gun was angled, Sam wouldn't have made it out of there alive. Sam's life had been saved by a tiny 15-year-old in spandex and he'd never been more grateful and saddened at the same time.

Once Steven had told them all that Peter was lucky to even be alive, that by some miracle the bullet had missed anything important, Sam knew that he now owed this child his life, even though said child would never say anyone owed him anything.

For everyone to see just how willing Peter was to save another teammate was refreshing... But the manner in which he saved them wasn't refreshing at all. This whole scenario was the kind of refreshing that came with opening a fresh bottle of water, only to realize the water is hot.

'If the only thing I can do for the team is take a bullet, then so be it' he said. His words kept playing on a loop in Tony's head. Tony realized that Peter was right, he did give them the information, so it was partly his fault.

He got the child he swore to protect injured. And then he tried to blame Steve. He turned to the blonde.

"I'm sorry."

Steve just scoffed a little. "As you should be. I'm not the one you need to be apologizing to."

Tony knew that Steve was right, just like he usually was. With a sigh, he left the medical bay to go and find where Peter had run off too. "Friday, locate Spider-Boy for me will you?"

The AI quickly responded. "Mr. Parker is in his bedroom. His heart rate appears to be elevated."

Without another word, Tony made for the teen's bedroom. Despite the sound-proof walls, Tony knew Peter was upset. Just as Tony was about to knock, Friday spoke in a hushed voice. "Mr. Stark, I find it imperative to warn you that Mr. Parker has just fallen asleep."

Tony lowered his hand. "Open the door for me, Friday."

Since the AI knew just how important it was that Peter got his sleep, she opened the door as quietly as possible. Tony slipped into the room, and Friday closed the door behind him.

Tony looked down at the teen where he slept. He was curled up into a tight ball, blankets bunched at the foot of his bed. He shook his head and pulled the covers over Peter and sat on the end of the bed with his back against the wall. He watched the web-slinger as he slept, strands of hair falling into his face and sighed.

"I'm here Peter... And I'm sorry."


	13. thirteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter overrides Friday and everyone is surprised.
> 
> GASP A TRIPLE UPDATE

When Peter woke, his bed was empty, but there was a dent in his blankets. "Friday, was someone here last night?"

"Mr. Stark came and sat with you for quite some time."

He hesitates. "Right, Friday, until further notice, Mr. Stark isn't allowed into my room."

"Yes, Mr. Parker."

Without any kind of plan, Peter pulled on some clothes without bothering to shower. He went down the hall and to the kitchen, where Tony and Wanda were. He walked around Tony like he was another piece of furniture in the way. In his jacket pocket was Wade's iPod. He figured he ought to return it, as Wade must be bored without it.

He snuck down the stairwell, refusing to take the elevator, until he got to the basement.

Through the hallway he went, stepping silently. He approached the wall of Wade's cell and gently tapped on the glass. Wade's face was hidden but somehow Peter could tell that he was smiling.

"Hey, Petey."

"Hi. I brought your iPod back. Figured you missed it." He scratched his neck.

Wade approached the glass with a small smile. "Actually, I think you should keep it. It's a piece of shit, but it's a better piece of shit than Stark will ever give you."

Peter laughed at that. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But you're sure?"

Wade nodded. "Keep it. It's been a couple days since I saw you last, what've you been up to?"

Peter just shrugged as he put the iPod back into his pocket. "I went on a mission, got shot. I started this new show-"

"You were shot?" Wade looked... Angry.

Peter nodded sheepishly and looked down. "Yeah... Yesterday."

Now Wade looked bewildered. "How are you even walking? Doesn't it hurt?"

Peter hesitated before deciding to tell the truth. "It does... So bad."

Peter had endured worse pains before, but this one stung with each breath he took. It ached with every move he made. Each time he stepped, the pain traveled up his side, beating within him like a second pulse. Each time he breathed, when his chest expanded, his wound collapsed in on itself, the stitches pulling tighter. It was like a black hole with a barrier, forever trying to fold in on itself but never being able to.

He honestly wanted to cry, but he knew that if he showed any little hint of sadness, Mr. Stark would only ever see him as a child. With his birthday coming up, he was going to be one year closer to being an adult, and he thought it was damn near time he got treated like one.

Hell, he just saved Sam's life, and Mr. Stark was only going to see him as reckless, rather than the hero that he actually was. And he wasn't about to let Mr. Stark look down on him anymore.


	14. fourteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter hacks into Tony's computer and nobody seems to notice.
> 
> ALSO IMPORTANT NEWS, I PUT UP THE PROLOGUE TO THE SEQUEL STORY, IT'LL BE WADE-CENTRIC. I HAVE BIG PLANS FOR IT, GO GIVE IT SOME LOVE.

Getting into Tony's lab wasn't hard. Peter'd seen Tony put the code in hundreds of times already... Okay, that was a lie, but he memorized the code by just seeing it once. 

Friday didn't alert Tony about Peter entering the lab while he was gone because Peter didn't need to hack the computer system for the door code. Peter knew he needed to hurry. Tony wouldn't be off base for long.

He made his way to the back of the lab and sat down at Tony's computer. He slid his hand across the holographic keyboard and smirked when the screen lit up. Tony had a basic password, it was juvenile and stupid, which made sense because so was Tony. Peter typed in 'captainamericock' and was looking at Tony's background in an instant.

He was met with a photo of Tony and Pepper at a gala that happened over ten years ago, which led Peter to believe that Tony wasn't on his computer a whole lot anymore. It had all the same information that Tony's other computer had, but it was obvious that Tony hadn't put any effort into updating his background or anything of the sort in quite some time. Peter plugged a small chip into Tony's computer and a window came up.

With some tweaking, Peter was able to save passcodes and mission reports onto his chip. As he was about to close the window and remove the chip, he came across a folder he nearly missed.

'Parker, Peter B.' Clicking on it revealed that it was password protected. Once he was inside the folder, he could see that there were photos and summaries and mission reports and two other folders.

The names 'Fitzpatrick, Mary' and 'Cpt. Parker, Richard' stared back at Peter. He clicked on the folder that bore his father's name and dozens of extra things popped up onto the screen. Photos, summaries, mission reports, recruitment reports signed by Nick Fury. Every other page was stamped with the official seal of the C.I.A.

His mother's folder held the same things. There were pictures of his parents standing next to Wolverine, next to Nick Fury. There were matching death certificates that listed their cause of death as a plane crash but... Were they on a mission? Was the plane sabotaged? What the hell? Why did Peter never hear about this? Why was he never told?

Was it possible that Aunt May and Uncle Ben didn't know? No, that's impossible. They had to know. No. They couldn't have known, or else they would've told him, right?

Peter could hear footsteps on the stairs. He yanked the chip out once the folder was on it and pressed a couple of buttons to close everything. With the press of another button, the computer went back to sleep just like he'd found it and he slid underneath the desk to hide.

The door opened, and as the person walking around made noise on one side of the lab, Peter made his way around the other side. Whoever came in left the door wide open, which made it so much easier for Peter to escape.

He was soundless as he crawled up the wall and onto the ceiling to make his retreat down the hall. He opened the stairwell door and finally let himself land on the floor.

He jogged down the stairs to the basement and basically sprinted down to Wade's cell. "Wade, Wade, Wade!"

Wade had already perked up when he heard Peter's voice. "What's going on Petey?"

Peter skidded to a stop and held the chip. "I know what happened to my parents."


	15. fifteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter breaks Wade out of the compound and they run away to Maine.

With a glance over his shoulder, Peter slips the chip into the code box outside of Wade's cell.

"Petey, what the hell are you doing?"

Peter looks up as he plugs a thin cord into the top of the code box and then links it to what looks like an old Game Boy. "I need out of here, and I need you to help me."

"Why me?"

"You know more about hiding than I do." Is all Peter says as he presses a few buttons and pulls both triggers at the same time. There's a small hissing noise and then the cell opens.

Wade slips out the door and Peter stuffs his equipment back into his bag. After making sure the cell is closed again, the pair slips farther down the hallway and into another room. Peter clicks the light on and Wade finds his confiscated things. He begins stuffing his suit into his backpack, along with a couple other weapons. Peter makes his way through another door into a separate storage room and stuffs a couple of canned meals, along with old military rations into his bag.

He steals a can opener and a couple of bottles of water and slips them into his bag alongside his suit. He lets his eyes glance once more around the room before meeting back up with Wade out in the hallway. Wade's changed into jeans and a slightly oversized hoodie. Somehow Peter knows he has at least two knives and three guns hidden on his person, not including whatever's in the bag. Wade pulls his cap on to hide his face and gives Peter a nod.

Now it's up to Peter to lead them out.

\----

Though Peter had lived in New York for such a long time, he's rarely ever left it. Aunt May had to work, so she couldn't really take him places, and Mr. Stark hasn't taken him anywhere at all. He's been on one mission out of the country, and Steve made it clear that they weren't doing any sight-seeing on that trip. So it was nice to be with Wade and see all the sights as the rode the bus out of New York.

Peter ended up falling asleep with his head on Wade's shoulder, and when he woke, Wade had carried him and their things off of the bus. He asked Wade why he didn't just wake him and make him walk, and Wade said he'd rather carry him than interrupt whatever sleep he was managing to get.

They walked for a little while along the coast before Peter finally asked WHERE they'd gone. Wade just smiles and says that he'll see soon enough.

They come upon a dock and Wade talks to a man for a few minutes before ushering Peter onto a small boat. Peter can't help but smile as he sits down and watches the seagulls fly overhead.

The man that Wade spoke to starts driving the boat towards an island in the middle of the water, and that's when Wade finally breaks the silence. "Casco Bay. Just off the coast of Maine."

Peter doesn't say anything, he knows he doesn't have to.

"There's a little cabin hidden pretty far into the woods, so I hope you're okay for a hike."

Peter nods and smiles up at Wade, who blushes.

\----

On the island, the pair hike through the woods. The sun is setting and Peter is a little upset that they didn't get to watch it, but Wade promises him that before they leave they'll see both the sunrise and sunset together, and it makes Peter smile.

The hike is long. It takes them a little over four hours to reach the cabin and by then they're both tired again. There's exactly one bedroom in the cabin, with one small bed, and Wade says he'll sleep on the couch, but Peter protests.

"You can sleep in the bed just... Stay on your side."

They lay together in the bed and Peter puts a pillow between them to make sure they stay on their respective sides of the bed... If by morning the pillow is discarded on the floor and the pair are curled up together, well, nobody needs to know.


	16. sixteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade realizes he might be falling for Peter.

When Wade woke, Peter was curled up to his chest. His hair was a mess and he was snoring and drooling all over himself. With a chuckle, Wade carefully got up and grabbed his shirt from the floor, wiped Peter's chin off, and then made sure he was covered up before going out into the living area of the tiny cabin.

There weren't walls to split up the floor plan, so the kitchen, living room and office area were all parts of the same room. With a shiver, he lit the fireplace so Peter wouldn't be cold when he got up and then proceeded to set up Peter's computer and equipment on the small desk in the corner. Part of him knew that Peter would want to get to work the moment he woke up.

The desk wasn't very big or very sturdy, but he knew that Peter would find a way to make it work.

He didn't turn anything on, just laid out Peter's laptop and other little devices on the top of the desk to let Peter set them up how he pleased. Peter didn't bring a whole lot, but upon further inspection of the cabin, Wade realized there was still food from the last time he'd been here.

Unopened cans of beans and year old packages of burritos were what he'd left for his future self to come back to. He knew that what was here, and what Peter had brought was not enough to last them, and so he knew he'd have to hike back and ferry back to the mainland to buy more groceries.

In Stark's storage room he'd found ziplock bags of money confiscated from the pockets of other villains, so it was obviously a no-brainer to just pack it all... Just in case.

Peter emerged from the bedroom, hair still a mess and looked up at Wade with tired eyes. Wade threw together a cup of instant coffee for the little spider and Peter was thankful, to say the least. He sat on the floor by the fire and sipped from his cup.

Wade let him know that he was going to shore, but that he'd be back as quickly as possible.

\----

When Wade returned from shore that afternoon, Peter was already curled up in the desk chair, eyes glued to his computer screen. Wade didn't attempt to make him move just yet, opting instead to make some food before even bothering to remove Peter from his work.

He put the food away and, figuring that Peter wouldn't take a real break to eat, settled for bringing him a snack. He crouched down next to Peter's chair and a moment later, the younger lad was looking down at him. Wade gave him a soft smile and offered him a package of pop-tarts.

Peter gave him a smile as he opened the package and popped a piece of pop-tart into his mouth.

"So, what are we working on?"

Peter speaks around the food in his mouth, "I found stuff about my parents on Mr. Stark's computer and now I'm trying to figure out what it all means... Some of this looks like code, but it's not making any sense to me." He points to some little sections on his screen and Wade shakes his head.

"It's a military code."

Peter furrows his brows as he stuffs more of the breakfast food in his mouth. "What do you mean?"

"Well that right there," Wade points to a collection of words. "That's NATO, it's a code used by the Army, Air Force, and the Navy."

Peter looks back to the screen. "Okay, so does it work like a skip code?"

Wade shakes his head. "No, NATO has one word for every letter of the alphabet. It's used so outsiders have a harder time deciphering the message. So for example, to spell your name, it'd be Papa, Echo, Tango, Echo, Romeo. P-E-T-E-R. So, Charlie, India, Alpha would spell C.I.A. and, wait what does this have to do with the C.I.A.? Petey, are we spies?"

Peter stares at the computer for a long moment. "I think my parents were spies."

\----

Peter sat at the computer for hours on end, and Wade didn't bother him, didn't try to make him move. He brought Peter food when he heard the boy's stomach growl and brought him something to drink every time Peter emptied his glass. He only had to remind Peter to use the bathroom once, which was a lot less than he thought.

Wade took to sitting on the couch and playing Dragon City on his phone. He didn't mind sitting by himself, and he wasn't bothered that the only noises were the crackling fire and the typing on Peter's laptop.

Every once in a while Peter would start thinking out loud, asking all kinds of questions that neither of them had the answers to. "Why would they hide this? Who were they really? Who would have killed them?" And so on and so forth. There were a few questions Wade didn't WANT the answers to, "Would they have come back for me? If they loved me, why would they keep leaving?"

Once two in the morning rolled around, and Peter had been yawning off and on for nearly three hours, Wade put his phone down on the arm of the couch and sighed. "Petey, honey, I think it's time for bed."

Peter didn't move.

"If you want to keep looking, that's fine, but you need your rest. You don't want to get sleep deprived and miss something important."

Peter sighed and gently closed his laptop. He stood and swayed, he hadn't stood in hours. Wade carefully lifted him and as he carried the boy to the bedroom, he could feel Peter tracing the burns on his arms. Peter's touch burned his skin, and it hurt. But it wasn't the kind of burning that made his skin that way, and it wasn't an awful hurt.

It was a burn that brought color to the surface of the skin, his blood rising to a boil in his veins. Peter's touch set him on fire and sent his heartbeat rushing like water down a stream. Peter's touch hurt. It made Wade's chest hurt. His heart beat on his ribs like a bird inside a cage that felt every miserable thump when it tried to escape. Peter's touch made his head hurt. All of the thoughts bounced around on the walls of his skull like basketballs on concrete and he couldn't focus on a single one of them.

Not with Peter's fingers touching him the way they were. His fingers were gentle, delicate, like a ballerina's dance across a stage. His touch was light, soothing. Wade didn't remember ever being treated so gently, so kind.

Peter's touch was distracting. Wade remembered hearing people talk like this when they admit they're in love. Is that what this was turning into? Love?

Wade can't recall ever feeling such a thing... Each memory of a past love was locked away inside the Fort Knox inside of his mind. And he wanted it to stay that way.

As he looked down at the sleeping boy in his arms, he realized that they might not stay that way after all.


	17. seventeen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter have a heart to heart of sorts.

Wade woke to Peter shifting in the bed. He looked down at Peter's outline and saw him shaking in his sleep. When he heard Peter's broken sob and call for help, he didn't hesitate to pull the little arachnid to his chest.

Peter stiffened in Wade's grip before thrashing harder, clawing at the arm slung across his chest. He thought he was trapped again, this much Wade could tell. He could hear the desperate gasping for air and the scared whimpers leaving Peter's mouth.

Wade let him go, only to sit up and grab his hands to stop Peter from clawing at his own skin. It was animalistic the way Peter tried to tear into himself. It was like there was something on the inside he needed to rip out. Some demon living inside of his bones, making him like this.

Peter thrashed beneath Wade, trying to rip himself free from his grasp. He struggled to no avail.

"Shh, it's gonna be okay Petey, you're alright. You're safe here, okay? Nobody's going to hurt you here. I won't let them, shh." As Wade went on talking, Peter seemed to calm down a little.

Peter opened his eyes and Wade could see the tears in them. "Oh Petey, you're okay... It's over now." He released Peter, who launched forward to hug him. Wade held onto Peter's shaking frame and soothed him as he cried. "I've got you, Petey, it's alright."

He held Peter until the younger boy was out of tears to cry. "Come on..." He stood, still holding Peter in his arms and walked into the other room to make coffee. It was relatively easy to work around the spider attached to his chest. He was small enough that he wasn't an obstruction to the process.

He sat down on the couch and Peter carefully detached himself so he could take a cup of coffee from Wade. He took a long drink from the cup and sniffled quietly. Wade almost missed the small moment. Peter could easily break back down again in a second, and Wade made it a point not to move from his spot on the couch.

"Do you want to talk about it, Peter?"

Peter stared blankly into his coffee for a long moment before nodding and turning to face Wade on the couch. Wade did the same, tucking a leg under himself and giving Peter 110% of his attention.

"Last year... There was this girl I liked, and her dad... He was a bad guy. Stole all kinds of tech, remade it, and then sold it... I didn't have my suit at the time, so I was basically wearing sweats and a hoodie, and... I took a lot of damage... Lots of bruising, um... We crashed a plane, and I was thrown a good couple hundred feet... I was in so much pain I didn't want to move, but I knew I had to..."

"Was this before or after you were... Stuck?"

Peter takes a breath. "After... Like right after. There wasn't a whole lot of time in between.."

Wade sipped his coffee to hide his frown. "Alright."

"He... Dropped me from high up, he threw me onto the ground, slammed me into things... Slammed my head into the ground... His suit exploded, and I couldn't just let him die. He was a bad guy, but I couldn't leave him to die, Wade, I couldn't do it."

"Shhh, I know Peter, it's okay. You're braver than a lot of people for saving his life."

Peter's voice cracked slightly. "And the fire was so hot... I got burned... Sometimes... Sometimes I can still feel it. Feel the flames on my skin, and it burns so bad..." Peter's fingers trailed absentmindedly over his collarbones where the scarred skin was.

"I know the feeling, but Peter... That moment does not define you. Yes, you were injured, and I know it scares you, but right now? You're safe here with me. Peter. I will keep you safe."

And Wade reaches out and grabs Peter by the hand. Wade didn't know if he took Peter's hand to stop him from clawing at the scars, or just for the sake of holding his hand. Maybe it was both. Wade wondered if Peter felt what he felt. Though Wade didn't even know what he felt.

He could describe it as a high powered magnet inside of his chest where his heart should be. A magnet that drew him closer to the metal that was Peter's skin. It was almost like iron sand in his veins, shifting and pulling him to Peter's touch.

From the way Peter looked at their hands, Wade thought he might feel it too. Peter did feel it, and he felt his spidey-senses telling him that Wade was a bad idea, but for just one moment, he didn't care. He was hurt and sad and scared and he just wanted it all to go away and if it meant using Wade then so be it.

Peter put his cup down on the table and carefully took Wade's from him to do the same. Just as Wade opened his mouth to speak, Peter closed the distance between them to smash their lips together.

And Wade had never felt more alive.


	18. eighteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is like 90% smut so skip this one if you wanna avoid it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I also haven't written any smut in a while so if you do read this and it sucks ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Wade grabbed Peter by his slender hips and pulled him closer. Peter wrapped his arms around Wade's shoulders and straddled his lap like it was something he'd done a thousand times already. Wade didn't miss the way that Peter was holding his hips up. It was almost as if Peter was unsure about this, about Wade.

It didn't take a genius like Bruce Banner to know that Peter Parker would never act without being totally sure of himself. So right now, Wade knew Peter was just worried about him... But Wade also knew that this wasn't just for the fun of it, or because he meant anything to Peter. He was meant to serve as a distraction for Peter, nothing more. He also knew that shutting the kid down would set the kid off worse than just letting him do his thing would, and so Wade just did what he knew he needed to do, and pulled Peter's hips down to settle on his lap.

It took less than a second for Wade to realize that Peter had never done this before, and it was all thanks to the way Peter's body tensed up. Peter pulled out of the kiss and looked down at the older man. "W-Wade, I..."

Wade shushed him with another kiss. He waited for Peter to kiss him back before he let his scarred hands wander Peter's thighs. "It's okay Peter, we're doing this at your pace. You're the lead here."

"But I-I don't... I don't know what to do..." Peter sounded nervous, but he also sounded frustrated by not knowing.

Wade leaned up and brushed his nose across Peter's jaw. The younger boy shivered and gripped tightly onto Wade's shoulders.

He pressed light kisses to Peter's neck and jaw, and the more he did it, the more Peter relaxed into his touch. He began to slide his fingers under Peter's shirt. Peter shivered above him once more, and all Wade could do was smirk as his scarred fingers ghosted across Peter's smooth skin.

He almost didn't want to touch Peter like this. He didn't want his damaged self coming into any kind of contact with Peter's body. Peter was pure, clean, light. He was newer to the world than Wade felt he would ever manage to be again. Wade didn't want to ruin Peter, the way he knew he so easily could.

He knew it wouldn't take much to rip the fragile teen into shreds of the person that he is now. Wade could lead Peter on and with a few simple words, he could crush everything that Peter had inside of himself and break his little heart into pieces. It would make him vulnerable, it could get him hurt, or killed.

"Do you want me to show you what to do, Petey?"

Peter pressed down where his fingers met with the back of Wade's neck and nodded, though he couldn't be seen. "Please...Wade, I wanna forget."

And yeah, Wade knew that it was a bad idea, but with the little spider practically begging, there wasn't much he could do in terms of saying no. Except that he could. But did he? No. Because this is Wade we're talking about and that's just how he is.

And if Wade said that the idea of taking Peter Parker's virginity didn't turn him on, he'd be a damn liar because right now he was harder than he ever remembered being. Wade Wilson has taken many a virginity, from man and woman and extraterrestrial alike, but nothing has ever excited him the way that Peter's pouty lips do.

Wade stood and effortlessly carried Peter back into the bedroom.

"Wade, you know, I-I've never done this before.."

"Shh, I'll take care of you, Petey, don't you worry."

Peter stretched out on the bed a little and his shirt rode up to reveal a patch of tan skin that Wade just couldn't stop himself from kissing. It made Peter shiver again and Wade took it as a sign from above that little Peter was getting off on the idea of Wade, too.

Peter, noticing Wade's little fascination on his skin, decided to be a little shit and pull his shirt up in as sexily of a manner that he could. It must have spurred Wade on, because in the next second, Wade was gripping at his thighs and digging his thumbs into the skin.

Wade was getting hard, this he couldn't deny, and he made this clear to Peter when he pressed his crotch against Peter's leg. Peter whined and that's when Wade noticed the little bulge in the front of Peter's pants. Wade leaned down and rubbed his nose over it and Peter's hips bucked. If Peter was this responsive now, Wade can only imagine what he'll sound like later on.

Peter slipped his hands underneath Wade's sweater and Wade reluctantly allowed him to pull it off. The exposure of his skin hurt like flames were tickling every inch of his body. To be held under Peter's gaze like this burned him. But Peter paid no mind to his damaged skin, at least, not in the way that Wade feared. Peter leaned up and attached his lips to the place just below Wade's collarbone.

Wade let out a moan as he ran his fingers through Peter's hair. For never having done this, Peter sure seemed to know what to do when it came to hickeys. Oh god, Stark was going to kill them both.

The thought of Stark alone just might be enough to kill Wade's boner, but when Peter lifts his hips to grind against him, Tony Stark is forgotten in an instant.

Wade pulled Peter's shirt off the rest of the way and tossed it across the room. He thought he heard it thud against the window but he didn't care enough to look. Looking for the shirt would mean looking away from Peter. He could see the exact moment that Peter began to get self-conscious.

When Wade's eyes moved to Peter's chest... When they trailed over the burns on his otherwise flawless skin... Peter looked down. Wade just kissed over it and started pulling Peter's bottoms off.

It was quickly made clear that Peter didn't have underwear on underneath. It took a lot of self-control on Wade's part not to just take Peter right then and there.

But Wade, deciding to be a gentleman for once in his goddamn life, took the time to find the lube he'd stuffed away in his bag.

He took the time to use his fingers to stretch Peter out. He took the time to press and curl his fingers in the places that made Peter moan and writhe beneath him. He could see the little beads of sweat start to form on Peter's neck. He leaned down and licked the sweat from Peter's neck and let his teeth graze the skin.

Peter moaned and all Wade could do was smirk as he moved his free hand to stroke Peter's aching cock.

When Wade pulled his hands away from Peter, he whined. But Wade just shushed him and stood to take his own pants off. Peter blushed more than he'd done in the last hour when Wade was naked in front of him.

Wade crawled back onto the bed with the lube and settled himself between Peter's legs. Peter rested his hands on Wade's shoulders and all Wade did was stroke Peter's thigh to soothe him as he lubed himself up with the other hand.

Peter took a deep breath as Wade lined up and he let out a whimper as Wade was pushing in.

"Shh, I've got you, baby. You're okay."

Peter nodded and took a breath. It didn't take him long to calm down enough for Wade to finish pushing in, and when he bottomed out they both moaned. Watching Peter's face was like a goddamn blessing that Wade didn't feel like he deserved.

Wade kept his hips slow, even when Peter started begging him to go faster. Wade shook his head and kissed along Peter's jaw.

To see Peter lose his composure like this, to see him gripping the sheets and throwing his head back... To feel Peter like this, feel him gripping Wade's bicep while he clenched around him... Wade leaned down and kissed Peter, who wasted no time in kissing the Merc back.

Peter kept letting out little moans and whines against his lips and Wade swallowed them as if they were water and he was a man dying of thirst.

Peter was getting more and more desperate. His whines got louder and he kept whimpering Wade's name and Wade knew that he was getting close. He squeezed Peter's hip and sped up ever so slightly.

Peter was basically crying tears of pleasure at this point, letting out little whines and cries at each of Wade's thrusts. Wade nearly matched each sound.

"W-Wade, I, ah~"

"Shh, I know baby, come on."

It was almost like Peter was waiting for Wade's permission to cum, because in the next couple of moments, Peter stilled, and then he spilled his load all over his own chest. Wade didn't think twice to take that moment to cum inside of Peter, either.

Wade took the time that Peter was breathless and unfocused to pull out and clean them both up a little bit before letting Peter have a nap.

If Wade took to doing Peter's research for him for a couple of hours, nobody needed to know.


	19. nineteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter needs to wake up.

When Peter woke again at around one, the cabin was silent. He pulled his sweatpants back on and was in the middle of pulling his shirt on as he walked out of the bedroom. Wade was nowhere to be seen.

At Peter's computer was the notebook he'd been taking notes in. Now there were a bunch of scribbles in red ink where there'd once been a blank page. On said page were a bunch of dots that Peter himself never connected. Information he never knew. There were things on this paper that weren't in any of the files on Peter's computer.

How did Wade know these things? Wade doesn't seem like the kind of guy to know anything really, so this was surprising, to say the least. Peter made a mental note that Wade's handwriting kinda looked like a mix between his Aunt May's and a doctor's. Neat, but nearly fucking unreadable.

Peter makes it easier for himself by picking out the words he can read and then using the words other readable words around it to find enough context clues to form a fucking thought. He rubs his temple in annoyance and sighs. Where was Wade?

Everything looked the same as it did this morning, with the exception of their mugs from this morning. Those had been washed and neatly sat on the counter together.

Peter felt dizzy, and it only worsened as he stood to look for Wade. There were only so many places he could be. He wasn't in the bedroom, Peter hadn't missed him. He wasn't in the bathroom, and he wasn't around the perimeter of the cabin.

Peter looked out into the trees and wiped his sweating hands on his shirt. "Wade?" He paused. "Wade!"

The only answer that he got was from the birds. His breathing picked up as he went back inside. He remembered that Wade put his number into Peter's phone, but when he called it, Wade's shitty flip phone rang in the other room instead.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and it hurt. He felt like he couldn't breathe. There was sweat on his skin, but he felt cold.

Peter knew what was happening, he knew he needed to get back inside, but all he really wanted was to find Wade. He went to walk towards the treeline, but tripped and landed in the dirt. He let out a sob.

His Spidey senses were going haywire. He knew that it was a bad idea to be out here in the forest in the middle of a panic attack, but he didn't want to be inside either. He didn't want to feel the walls closing in on him. He didn't want to feel so big in a place so small.

He got up and ran as best as he could for maybe 30 feet before leaning on a tree. "Wade!" His voice came out as little more than air.

He pressed on through the trees, and the forest only seemed to get darker the farther in that he went. He pushed on through until he collided with a wall of trees. He turned around and there was a second wall. He was closed in by trees on all sides but one.

He ran down the corridor of trees and watched as the walls around him turned into what looked like the walls in his Aunt May's apartment building. Her apartment door stood wide open and when he ran inside she was there, her body lying in a heaping puddle of blood and shattered glass where the coffee table once stood.

He ran back to the door, but on the other side was no longer the apartment building, but the long hallway outside of his room at the Avenger's base. He ran towards what Tony called the Party Room.

He pushed the double doors open and wished that he hadn't. He could smell the blood and he wanted to throw up. Windows were broken and so was the furniture.

Right at his feet was Wanda... Or, what was left of her. Her head was turned the completely wrong way and her left leg was laying several feet away. Over the back of the couch was Sam, two large slices through his chest. His blood trickled down the once white upholstery and onto the face of Clint, whose eyes looked as if they'd been clawed out of his skull. Several bullet holes filled his stomach.

He rounded the couch to see Mr. Strange's body on the ground, holes through his hands, crucifixion style... His cape was still shifting beneath him as if trying to wake him. Peter felt tears spring to his eyes. Right next to him was what was left of Vision. The yellow stone was missing from his forehead.

Scott was covered in blood, and draped across his legs was Mr. Banner, a single bullet wound to the temple... Except, if there was one thing that Peter knew about angles, it's that this one wound in the whole room was self-inflicted.

He rounded the couches to see Natasha laying across one. She had a gun lying next to her head, and her finger was still on the trigger. Her head hung off of the couch, as did one of her arms. Blood dripped down her face, and her hand was outstretched toward's Bucky's beaten body.

Bucky's metal arm was missing, severed just beneath the shoulder. His head was turned to the side, but something about it looked wrong, unnatural. Something inside of Peter's mind told him that it was broken, but he chose to look away instead of admit that maybe it was.

Peter turned around and saw Tony laying on the ground. His eyes were wide and unblinking. There was a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be and next to him was Steve. Steve's hand loosely gripped Tony's. Peter knelt down in the space between them. Steve's bleeding neck made Peter shake harder than he'd been in the first place.

Steve's body jerked and Peter felt a hand around his arm. He looked into Steve's now grey eyes and listened as Steve spoke words garbled by the blood. "You... Could've... Saved... Us..."

Then, Steve went still again, his hand falling away from Peter's arm.

Peter quickly stood and backed up as quickly as his shaking legs could carry him. He tripped backward over something and when he looked down, he saw his own body there, in a pool of blood. His stomach had been ripped open and his wrists had been slit. Part of him wondered which happened first.

He got up and ran again, back through the double doors. This time he was in the dark, everything around him was pitch black. He could feel his spidey senses tingling, but he couldn't see anything coming.

A light flicked on, illuminating something far away, and Peter ran to it. In the circle of light was a little girl, maybe no more than five. She and her purple dress were both covered in blood. Peter stopped short of actually approaching the girl.

Peter heard footsteps, and he saw Wade standing behind the girl, and the footsteps grew louder and louder, and he felt hands on his body, and he could hear someone calling his name.

"Peter!" His eyes flew open and above him he saw Wade, eyes wide. He was finally getting his breath back, for the most part. "I heard you screaming... Peter, it's just a dream."

Peter nodded, though he wasn't entirely sure that Wade was telling him the truth.


	20. twenty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter don't talk about having sex, only to have more sex to not talk about later.
> 
> Also, Happy 4th of July!

Peter emerges into the front room just minutes after Wade decided to leave him alone for the chance to collect himself. He refused to tell Wade about his nightmare for the time being. He took a breath and was hit by the smell of garlic.

"Wade, are you... cooking?"

Wade looks up from the skillet on the stove and smiles. "Yeah, I am."

Peter can't help but think Wade looks cute in his sweatshirt, but he says nothing aloud. "I was under the impression that you didn't know how to cook."

Wade looks a little sheepish. "I had to learn really quickly when I was younger. I've basically been cooking my whole life."

Peter strides over and lifts himself onto the small countertop. He pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his arms on them, eyes totally focused on Wade, whom Peter is hoping will share more of his story with him.

"My mom had cancer, she died when I was young, and my dad... Wasn't the greatest, so I was left to care for myself at an early age." Wade stirred what looked like vegetables and meat in one skillet, and noodles in the other pot. "He was always gone, and he was... Abusive, when he was home. I had to cook for him when he was home and awake to eat."

Peter wants to reach out and touch Wade's cheek, the way one lover might do to the other. He wants to wipe away the stray tear forming in Wade's eye and he wants to kiss him and remind him that everything is okay now... But he doesn't. He tucks his hands under his legs and rests his face on his knees. He doesn't want to give Wade his attention and affection, only for it to come out that Wade didn't see him as anything more than a fuck.

Peter didn't want to get his hopes up and admit that he felt anything for Wade Wilson. He didn't want to admit to the spark that he felt when they were cuddled together, or the hammering in his chest when they kissed. He didn't want to admit to his sweaty palms when Wade smiled at him. This was stupid.

He had a crush on Wade Wilson, a killer who was at least ten years older than him. It was impractical. Dating was impractical. That's what he told himself after Liz. He wasn't wrong.

Dating was impractical, especially in their line of work. They'd always be in danger, someone would always be trying to kill them. They'd always be used as leverage over each other... And Peter can die. Wade can't, but Peter can, in fact, be killed. He could be shot, or stabbed or beaten with a crowbar and blown up or get a fatal disease and it'd kill him.

Wade... Would live on without him. And that thought alone is enough to scare Peter into silence. The only sound that fills the air between them is the sizzling from the stove.

\------

After lunch, Wade and Peter sat on opposite ends of the couch to watch a movie on Peter's laptop. Wade honestly wanted nothing more right now than to pull Peter in close and kiss the top of his fluffy hair, but he didn't move a muscle.

Peter was only a kid, a little on the young side, and much too good for Wade. He was better than what Wade would ever be holy enough to deserve. Wade didn't deserve the privilege of touching Peter, of being near him. But goddamn he wished he was.

Peter had such soft skin, and Wade already missed holding him. He missed kissing him and brushing his lips along the line of Peter's bones.

Wade thought back to just this morning when he had Peter's skin beneath his hands and suddenly he wishes he'd taken more time to actually worship Peter the way that he deserved. As far as first times go, Wade couldn't say it went poorly. Then again, it wasn't about what he thought of it and he knew it. It was about Peter, and what he thought and how he felt, and judging by the way he's sitting—so far away from Wade—he regrets it.

Wade's been around long enough that he knows what this kind of body language means. Except. Peter keeps looking this way, and he wouldn't do that if he wasn't still interested in Wade still. So what was it? What goes on inside of Peter Parker's head?

Is he secretly thinking about how awful of a person Wade was? Is he thinking about how awful the sex was and how he wished he'd never done it and how he's going to decide he's asexual?

In the next second, Wade decided that he didn't give a fuck what the kid was thinking about. Being with Peter was such an awful fucking idea. The kid was fragile. And Wade was dangerous, always in danger. The people that Wade fucked around with could destroy Peter in an instant, and most of them would never even hesitate.

They wouldn't care that Peter was just a teenager, they'd kill him. They'd tear him up and beat him down and none of them would even think twice about doing so. They'd plow down anyone in their way, and unlike wade could, Peter couldn't come back from something like that so easily.

But again, Wade tends not to give a shit about anyone that isn't himself sometimes, and so the next time that he catches Peter looking, he doesn't hesitate in lunging across the couch and smashing his lips onto Peter's.

Peter didn't hesitate to kiss back this time, cupping Wade's cheeks as he crawled into his lap.

Maybe Peter wanted Wade too, but nobody else needed to know that.

Wade dug his thumbs into the soft skin of Peter's hips and the younger boy squirmed on his lap and it made their hips grind together. The action pulled a moan from the boy's lips and a smirk from Wade's.

Wade lifts his hips to grind against Peter and Peter responds by pulling his shirt off and tossing it across the back of the couch. Wade had to admit that the kid was fucking gorgeous. He was so sexy and he didn't have any goddamn clue what he could do.

When Peter leaned back to look down at Wade, he looked downright sinful. His hip bones protruded out and Wade could see right up the slope of Peter's smooth skin. He could see the silvery lines crossing Peter's torso and he could see the silvery burns across his collarbone and hip.

Peter smirked a little bit before sliding down onto the floor in between Wade's legs. Peter looked up through his lashes as he grabbed ever so gently onto Wade's thigh. His hand was dangerously close to a place that could no longer be classified as thigh anymore.

Peter slid his other hand up underneath Wade's shirt, fingers brushing over his chest. With a smirk, he dragged his blunt nails down Wade's skin, finally stopping at the elastic of Wade's sweats.

Peter's voice is sweet like honey as he presses his cheek to Wade's thigh. "Can I blow you, Wade?"

And goddamn, if Peter doesn't make Wade's dick jump just by asking. Wade asks if he knows how and Peter just laughs. "I said I'd never had sex before, but I never said I'd never given a blow-job."

Wade's cheeks flushed as his dick strained against his sweats. Peter didn't move, waiting for absolute consent. The moment Wade nodded, it was like a free-for-all.

Peter pulled Wade's sweats down far enough to reveal his cock and his eyes darkened with lust.

Wade thought Peter looked like a goddamn sin. His eyes were wide and he had spit on his pink lips. And when he pressed those lips to Wade's hardened length, all bets were off. Wade's fingers went right into Peter's hair, and the slightest tug got the biggest reaction out of Peter. It was simple, but it meant so much. Peter let Wade pull his head back.

He didn't fuss, didn't hesitate, didn't fight back. He let Wade pull his head back and he looked blissed the fuck out. His eyes were hooded and his lips parted like there was nothing more on this Earth that Peter Parker loved more than being dominated.

"Look at you, Petey... My pretty boy.." And Wade got a moan out of Peter on that one, which led Wade to believe that the only thing Peter Parker liked more than being dominated, was being complimented.

And then Wade realized, there was nothing he liked more than complimenting him...

Peter drug his tongue up the side of Wade's dick. "Yes Wade, all yours."

Except that. Wade loved nothing more than hearing Peter declare himself as belonging to Wade. "Yeah? All mine?" He tugged on Peter's hair again and the younger boy removed himself from where he was sucking on the head of Wade's cock.

"Yes Wade, I'm all yours... Make me yours, Wade, please." Peter was nothing short of begging, and with the lustful look in his eye, Wade just couldn't say no.


	21. twenty-one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow it's literally taken me forever to update oops. I promise I didn't forget you!

Peter remembered when Mr. Stark took his suit away from him after the ferry incident happened. He remembered begging to keep the suit, telling Tony that he was nothing without it. He remembered the cold stare that Mr. Stark gave him. He remembered how cold Mr. Stark had been as he found clothes for Peter to change into. He remembers the harsh silence. There were no jokes, no laughter or smiles or inappropriate jokes about Aunt May to ease the tension between them.

'If you died, I feel like that's on me.' He had said. Peter knew that Mr. Stark felt responsible for him as soon as they met. Tony liked Peter for his smarts, but could really care less for his inquisitiveness.

Peter thought it was so strange that it seemed like he had four parents when one of them only cared about him for his brain, one of them dropped a ramp on him, and the other two didn't do a whole lot of speaking to him, even now.

'I just wanted to be like you.' He had told Mr. Stark... Mr. Stark just stared at him, like he was an idiot. He looked at Peter like all he really wanted to do was kick him off of the rooftop they were standing on. He looked so angry that he had to come and save the day, and Peter knew why. Tony didn't like having to clean up after Peter. That's why when Vulture had crashed the plane, he was quick to clear out of the area. He knew Mr. Stark was going to look for him, but Peter managed to avoid him well enough Tony had started to wonder if he'd bled out somewhere.

He remembers the relieved look on Tony's face when he walked into the tower a couple of days later. The moving day had been moved back a couple of weeks due to the incident, so he was able to stay in bed for a couple of days until it didn't hurt so bad to breathe anymore.

 

Peter walked through the glass doors to the tower, still nursing a limp on his twisted ankle and bruises all over. His shirt was sticking to him where he'd slathered his burns in an antibiotic ointment. It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd had the bandages he'd needed to doctor them correctly, but for now every move he made caused his shirt to stick to him and pull on the already sensitive skin.

It didn't take Mr. Stark long to see him, and when he did it looked like a weight had been lifted off of him. He'd called Aunt May's apartment and she'd told Tony that Peter was alright. He didn't seem to believe it until Peter showed up though.

Tony walked right up to him and was about to hug him for the first time ever when he saw the irritated burn peeking above his collar. The skin hadn't even begun to heal properly yet, which meant Tony absolutely had to intervene. Luckily, Tony Stark knew how to keep hospitals quiet, especially after all the visits he'd had. Sure, hospitals already had confidentiality rules, but Tony needed to make sure that not a single word about him was going to be breathed to the public.

That's why he trusted his own doctors to do what they could for Peter and keep their mouths shut about this random child that Tony Stark was wandering around with all of a sudden. He trusted them not to breathe a word of Peter or his injuries to anyone.

Tony didn't really know the true extent of Peter's injuries until he saw the x-rays. And even then he wasn't prepared for the surface damage the fight had inflicted on Peter.

One of the nurses had to help Peter out of his sweater because he physically couldn't move his arm to get it off. How did he get anything done when he was by himself? Did he force himself through the pain to get dressed and undressed every day? And how difficult did this injury make the simplest tasks for Peter?

He knew about Peter's advanced heal rate, but this wasn't looking very good. He kept his arm against his body, almost like he was afraid to move it even the slightest. Tony didn't blame him. He wasn't even upset that Peter didn't tell anyone. Tony probably wouldn't say anything about an injury like this either. In fact, he can think of several times he's hidden injuries from the people around him.

Peter's body could heal broken bones in 24 hours. 3rd degree burns vanished in just 48 hours. So what was up with him now? He had a shoulder that hadn't healed at all in 34 hours and his burns hadn't even begun to heal... Tony didn't have any research he could do on this, there were no documents, no files. The doctors managed to set his shoulder, and after that, it healed fine, but his burns healed so slowly...

After a month and the relocation upstate, his wounds seemed to be as healed as they were going to get, left as white patches of skin across his chest and arms. He saw Peter touching them sometimes when he was studying or thinking or just zoned out. He'd been doing a lot of that lately. He'd noticed that when Peter was alone, he'd curl up on whatever chair or couch he'd been left on and his hand would go straight to the damaged skin, and he wouldn't react much, just trail his fingertips back and forth across it.

Then, just a couple of seconds before someone entered the room, he'd snap out of it and become that same bubbly, optimistic teenager everyone knew him to be. It was almost like the old Peter was just a part that he played to please everyone around him. Tony read the articles, he knew the statistics. He knew all the rates of teenage anxiety and depression. He knew all the calculations and he knew all the signs of each little illness inside of Peter. He saw every little tell and tick that the poor kid tried to pack away into the instability trunk he'd hidden away.

Tony could easily see that Peter was self-conscious about it, those little patches of skin. Tony could easily spot the signs of the PTSD Peter'd been left with thanks to that fight... And he did everything to try and make it better for him. For the first few days of him living on the base, Tony did his best to be observant to try and find the best way to protect Peter, to find his triggers so they could be eliminated. 

He noticed Peter got really jumpy when someone managed to sneak up behind him. He'd had his headphones up at full blast and didn't hear the door open behind him once and he'd been scared so bad that not only did he jump, but he cried and shook for over an hour. Wanda felt so bad... So Tony made it a point to have a dim light bar installed around Peter's room. It wasn't anything special, just a simple light that wrapped around the trim near the ceiling.

When it blinked white, it meant that someone was trying to contact him on the intercom. When it was blue, it meant someone was at the door either waiting to come in, or already on their way through it. When it blinked red, it meant that his heart rate was elevated and that Peter needed to calm down. The lights worked so well, Peter was visibly relaxed. These lights were only installed in his room though, so that's where he began spending the most time.

Until Tony decided the kid needed to leave his room more and found a way to integrate his idea into something portable for Peter. His idea was reintroduced to Peter in the form of a smart watch that was continuously scanning his surroundings. FRIDAY was linked through it, so even off base Peter could stay in touch through her if need be. The watch's warnings were simple, several long vibrates meant a connection through Friday's intercom system, or a call. Several short vibrates meant someone was on their way to him. One continuous vibration meant that his heart rate was elevated, and the vibration wouldn't stop until his heart rate was mostly normal again.

 

Peter might not ever say anything to Mr. Stark about it, but he was truly so very thankful for everything... He knew that without Mr. Stark, he probably wouldn't be alive right now... Little did Peter know that without him, Tony might not be alive right now either.


	22. twenty-two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's parents are freaking out.

When Tony woke up, he had this awful feeling in his chest that something was wrong. Steve felt it too. Together they walked down to Peter's room only to find him missing. His bed looked like it hadn't been slept in for days.

Loud boots were coming down the hallway, and they didn't even have to look to know that it was Bucky. He was angry, but what was new? 

"The prisoner's gone." His chest was rising and falling quickly. Had he ran to them?

Tony looked towards the ceiling as if there were someone there. "FRIDAY, status report, where did the prisoner go?"

There was a long pause. "I don't know, sir."

Baffled, Tony threw his arms up. "How can you not know, FRIDAY? You see everything that happens in this building? What does the security footage say?"

Steve and Bucky share a look, seemingly having a thousand word conversation between them in just seconds. They knew what the other was thinking, and they could already figure what happened. Peter and Wade magically vanishing at the same time wasn't any kind of coincidence... The only thing they couldn't figure is who broke who out.

"My system suffered a malfunction at 01:30:21 on Friday morning. My system did not reboot totally until 01:44:15, sir."

Tony glances over his shoulder at the two of them. "If the system shut down that means that the security and cameras were off for the whole building until FRIDAY rebooted... Is everything else accounted for?"

Bucky can't answer. "I didn't look anywhere else but the main cells."

Tony turns back to the ceiling, now somewhat furious. "FRIDAY, alert all personnel to a facility-wide search and put out covert ABP's on Peter and the mercenary Deadpool as well." He kept talking as he walked down the hall, Bucky and Steve following behind him. "Deadpool is armed and dangerous and he's meant to be brought back here in as many pieces as possible. Peter is to be brought back unharmed but should still be considered dangerous."

Steve thought it was an outrage. "He's just a kid, Tony."

"A kid who can stop a bus with his bare hands and hack into a multimillion-dollar security system that grown adults from the government couldn't even pass the firewall on." He passes through the group room and collects Natasha as the facility-wide alarm blares. He swipes a clipboard from a frantic looking S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and curses a little.

"While Peter was doing God knows what, the systems were shut off, which meant any door in the building could be opened and closed and there'd be no record of it at all. The highest security doors could have been opened by a kindergartener."

Natasha walked along the group, popping bubble-gum as if everything wasn't falling to shit around them. "VX9103 has escaped, and so has CX4376... Hopefully, they'll finally kill each other and save the rest of us a lot of trouble."

"We have to operate under the assumption that they're returning to the host bodies, which is a whole lot of trouble for the rest of us. I don't know if we've got the juice to get rid of them, especially at the same time."

Bucky rolled his eyes, "Yeah, hi, apparently we're not all privy to the same information so if you could stop speakin' confidential martian and start speakin' English like the rest of us, that'd be nice."

Tony stopped walking entirely and Bucky almost collided with his back. Luckily his reflexes were fast enough he was able to jump back before Tony turned around. "VX9013 and CX4376 are two highly dangerous symbiotic organisms from another planet. They on adrenaline and grant almost spider-like powers to their hosts. They've been trapped in our high-security vaults for years, and NOW, your brat has endangered EVERYONE."

Steve's shoulder's squared. "Right, because you've never done anything like that before."

Natasha shook her head. "It's not right of you to suddenly decide you've not taken any responsibility for him once he's done something wrong, Tony. If anything, I think you're the most to blame here by keeping him and everyone else in the dark about what's really going on here."

"Well then maybe you should tell them, Nat, since you're so good at opening your mouth."

"Says the man that don't know how to shut his." Bucky snapped. "Don't talk to her like that. Surely your mother taught you how to respect a woman."

Bucky knew the parent card was an extremely low blow, especially after everything they'd been through. Natasha and Steve both shared a look while Tony stared up into Bucky's eyes. The conversations passing through the air were quickly brushed away when Steve asked what they should be doing. Tony just shook his head. "The only thing we can do now is doing our damndest to find Peter."

 

In all reality, Wade thought as he looked around the little cabin, if someone wanted to find them bad enough they could. He looked to where Peter was laying, curled up on the couch and fast asleep... He couldn't keep Peter here any longer, but he couldn't go back with him anymore. Not like he wanted to. He needed to finish his mission, but he didn't have it in him to kill Peter. Not now... So he settled for doing what he could.

He pulled the small needle from his bag, along with the blood bag and IV tube. He didn't want to do this anymore, but he knew that he had to. Cable might kill him for this because he knew what came out of this, he just didn't know what it'd do to the world around him... But if Cable wasn't here to stop him, he figured it was a pretty good clue to go ahead and do it.

While poor Peter, passed out from the drugs Wade slipped into his food, slept soundly, Wade hooked the needle to the tube and stuck it into Peter's vein. He had a big enough bag to take two pints of blood, and sure it would leave him weak, but that's what Wade needed. Wade needed Peter to be too weak to come looking for him. The weaker he was, for the time being, the less danger he'd be in.

Wade sucked on the tube until the blood started to flow, then he hooked it to the bag and sat back to watch the magic. There were no noises in the cabin but the drip, drip, dripping of Peter's blood. It's a good thing he wasn't returning with Peter, really. He'd hate to be there when they found the Symbiotes were missing... He knew they'd blame it on Peter, but he couldn't just show up and rightfully take the blame like he should.

God, if Peter ever found out about this, he'd kill Wade for sure... 'That's why he's not ever going to find out, idiot.' One of the voices said. The other just laughed, well, at least he thought it was laughter. 'He's never going to find out. He trusts you, Wade, and that was his mistake. I can't believe he didn't think you'd betray him, after all, you are the bad guy here.'

"No, no you're wrong, I'm doing this to protect him, I'm the good guy."

'You're wrong again, Wade. You've never been the good guy. You kill people for money, and now this? You've taken HYDRA's instructions as the gospel and now this poor little boy is going to pay for it... You know what could happen to him... You know what this could DO to him... Yet you still proceed? Do you not care?'

"Of course I care!" He exclaimed. He wasn't worried about waking Peter. He had enough drugs in his body to keep him out for days.

 

He looked to the table where the cryotube sat. Etched into the side was a code... CX4376. "Of course I do..."


	23. twenty-three.

When Peter woke, he was in a room that looked all too familiar. Crisp white and glass surrounded him and he instantly knew where he was. He sat up quickly but felt dizzy. He felt a sharp pain in his arm from where he'd yanked on his IV and his blood drip, but he yanked both needles out, shocked and afraid. What had happened to him? And where was Wade?

He ran to the wall of glass and beat on it as hard as he could with what little strength he had. "Hey! Mr. Stark! Steve! Anybody, please! Let me out of here!"

The doors at the end of the hall slid open to reveal Bucky and Nat, fully suited up and packing heat. They each had guns resting in their holsters, but he wondered what the big threat could be. He took in their defensive stances and his heart dropped into his stomach. Was he the threat?

"Nat... Why... Why am I here?" He pressed his palms flat against the glass and she looked to the floor at the sign of vulnerability.

"Tony's orders, Peter... You ran away, you've been gone for days..." She shook her head, hair falling into her eyes. "That Mercenary brought you back to us half dead, with one of the deadliest creatures inside of this facility... I don't know what you were thinking Peter, but now we need to know where he is. We need to know where Wade Wilson is and what he's done with VX9103."

Peter's brows furrow as he looks between both parental figures in confusion. "VX...9103? What, what does that mean?"

"You mean to tell me you've never seen or heard of it?" She asks as Bucky stands next to her in stoic silence.

Peter tries to recall something, anything, about what they're asking him. All he can come up with is having seen the code etched into a metal door in the basement. He makes it clear that he's never seen it anywhere else but there and they sigh but press harder for Wade's location. He can't give it to them. Even if he did know, he wouldn't tell them. If Wade was gone it was for a good reason, and if Wade left him behind, that was probably for a good reason too.

Peter swayed and leaned on the glass, feeling suddenly weaker than before. Bucky was quick to open the door and scoop Peter up into his arms. He turned to look at Natasha, who seemed to know what he was about to say before he even said it. "That's not our choice to make, James."

He shook his head. "I refuse to leave him here. Stark's got him trapped down here like some kinda animal. S'not human and it sure as hell ain't fair."

"I don't know if you noticed, Tin Man, but life's not fair." All three of them shifted their attention to the door, where Tony stood with Bruce next to him. They'd been attached at the hip since Peter got back. Tony knew all about machines, sure, but Bruce knew about people. Tony knew about people too, but he knew what made them tick, what set them off. Tony Stark knew what people wanted and knew just how to take it away from them. Bruce Banner knew people in a whole different light.

"He's a child Tony, it's not right for you to keep him isolated down here, you know what that could do to him. You know what it did to you." Natasha snapped. It wasn't often she bothered to badmouth Tony Stark to his face, but this was her little boy they were talking about. The only son she'd ever known, and the only child she'd ever let herself care for.

Tony was struck by her words and visibly hurt, but if there was something else he knew about people, it was how to piss them off. "Yeah, but he's not MY kid, and last I checked he couldn't possibly be yours either, so why don't you put him back in bed and get out?"

Peter felt his heart drop impossibly lower. Tony laid no claim to him as a child, this he already suspected. But to hear it out loud was another matter all on its own. In his already weakened state, his spirit was being crushed and torn apart by one of the few people he trusted to keep him safe... Maybe there was no such thing as safe anymore... 

"Why? So you can keep usin' him as an experiment? He's a human bein' for cryin' out loud!" Bucky held him a little closer to his chest, a little tighter. He stood a little higher, a little stronger. Way back when, in the far away 40's, there was a version of James Buchannan Barnes that wanted to have children in his life. He wanted to have little versions of himself and the man that he loved running around, despite the impossibility of it all. They'd once considered a surrogate, but with homosexuality still being illegal, it was nothing more than a dream... But now there was a child, and even though he carried none of his blood through his veins, he had plenty of resemblance to him and Steve both.

Peter carried the dark hair and dark eyes and sarcasm that Bucky had, all while sporting the strong-headedness and sharp wit that Steve brought to the table. Somehow this child born over 50 years after they last saw the sun as regular human beings was almost the perfect blend of the two of them. And Bucky wasn't about to let that go because Tony Stark had an insatiable need to control everything and everyone around him. "The way I see it Stark, you got two options right now. You can turn 'round and let us do what needs done, or you can, as they say, suck a fat one."

The terminology made Tony stutter and blush in both embarrassment and anger at the same time. This marks the first time Bucky has ever used sucking dick as a threat that Tony didn't like. He looked shocked and glanced to Bruce who said nothing.

"I think they're right, Tony, I uh, I don't think we should keep him down here any longer... The isolation can't be good for him. Besides, he truly didn't do anything wrong that we know of. It'd be detrimental to his health and developmental stages. He is still a child."

It wasn't hard to see the conflict in Tony's eyes. He knew that he was outnumbered here but he still had two choices. Put his foot down and become the bad guy, or roll over and show his stomach like the weak little puppy that he is. This was totally the wrong time, but Tony was lying if he didn't think that Bucky staring him down was the hottest thing since sliced bread... Did people still say that now? Oh well.

Natasha glanced towards Bruce, who was looking at the floor as he played with his sleeves. He didn't dare look at her, especially not since she knew the secret he'd been trying so hard to keep. If she wasn't so damn sneaky then she wouldn't know, but it's hard to hide a secret when someone walks right into it. He remembers the look on her face when she saw... She looked shocked more than anything, but even that only lasted a couple of moments. She just stared for the longest time. And then, with a disappointed sigh, she turned and left, closing the door behind her.

He could feel her looking at him now, and looking at where he stood. He was like an abused lapdog, loyal to a fault, staying around for the scraps. That was all he ever got. He hadn't had anything but the scraps from the feet of those that stood above him in so long now he forgot what a meal was like... But he couldn't leave, because he was needed. Wasn't he? That's what they said, after all.

With a shaking breath, Tony turned and stepped to the side out of the doorway. He could see Peter shaking from where he was stood, and he truly didn't want to see the kid suffer. Once Natasha and Bucky passed them and left, he turned to look down at Bruce. "Did you recheck his bloodwork?"

Bruce nods and fiddles with his sleeves as he glances at the door the boy had just been taken through. "Yeah, I did... The anomaly wasn't a malfunction..."

"It has to be a malfunction."

"I ran it eight times, Tony." He sighs. "It's not a malfunction. There's something happening to him, and I don't know if we can fix it."

"It shouldn't be happening, Banner!" Tony ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. "It's physically impossible. That's not possible, Bruce, it has to be a mistake!"

Bruce shook his head again. "That's what I thought too, Tony. I'll have to take new scans and run more tests, but I'm sure that it's true."

Tony took a deep breath and was silent for a very long moment. "I hope we find that Red sonuvabitch soon... Cause when we do, I'm gonna kill him."


	24. twenty-four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is literally just a shitty filler chapter since I haven't posted in a hot minute

Said Red sonuvabitch wasn't exactly hiding very well, especially after having come around to drop Peter off. 

Except, he knew that he wouldn't be caught, because he had a guy on the inside that was on the same team as he was. Well, sorta on the same team. It was like a double-double agent type thing he thinks.

He was also a little worried because the guy on the inside was close to Peter, which made him worry less at the same time. He was basically a clusterfuck of worry at this point and there was nothing to be done about it. All he could do was sit with his shitty anxiety about the situation. He didn't like having to betray Peter any more than he liked following Hydra, but there was only so much to be done at this point. He could either roll over and get Peter killed, or he could suck it up and quit being a bitch about it, singlehandedly saving Peter's life.

He's sure Peter would rather die than let anyone else get hurt, especially Stark, but again, only so much to be done.

Now I'm sure you're wondering, who is this guy on the inside? Is he someone we know? Is he an unimportant background character, or are we going to be totally surprised and betrayed when we find out who it is? Well, I don't know yet, because you're not going to meet them anytime soon. I'm keeping this little trick up my sleeve until I find the best time to use it.

Now, back to me, Deadpool.

I- Wait, this is a third person story, isn't it? Alright fine, HE slinked away from the building, back into the cover of the darkness provided by the trees. He was sure that he'd be detected as long as he was on the property, but luckily enough he was able to cut a wire. Funny how multimillion-dollar operating systems can fail with just one faulty wire. That's probably bad planning on Stark's part, but oh well, it makes Deadpool's job so much easier.

Wade makes his way through the trees, knowing that for now, he won't be caught. It would ruin the plan and they- his inside man- knew it. It was too soon. The plan wasn't anywhere near finished. And sure, Wade threw in some twists and turns of his own, but that just made it easier for his inside man. The less they knew, the easier it would be to act confused, well, by then it would be real confusion.

Wade thought it would be better for his inside man to only know the main part of the plan. All of the extra flair was on Wade. The symbiotes were his idea, and it's a good thing too. It added drama to everything, sent everyone into a panic, and the panic was the perfect cover to the underlying chaos.

As long as the focus was on him being the bad guy, then he could make sure to keep the real bad guys out of the way. As soon as someone figured out they had a traitor inside their ranks, it'd be Civil War between them all. God knows that it wouldn't be one against all. They'd each pick sides with each other. There'd be someone that'd side with the traitor, simply because they were friends or lovers. The thought made Wade roll his eyes because even he wouldn't side with someone like that.

Just the thought of being like- No, focus. This is for Peter. Peter. Holy shit, what'd I do to Peter? I can't believe I- Wade can't believe he did that to Peter... It wasn't going to make anything better, and he's so sure that Peter won't want anything to do with him after the second half of the plan sets into motion...

In order for that to happen, he needs to sneak Peter away again. He needs to be with Peter again anyways. The little Spiderling is the only thing that's been on his mind lately, but it's not like he's complaining, but sometimes it's inconvenient. Except for when he was alone and could get away with beating off to the image of Peter etched into the backs of his eyes...

The thought of Peter's smooth skin and slender hips on their own was enough to get Wade going, and right now that might be a bit of a problem considering that his running pace is slowing and that the systems will reboot any moment now.

He let out a somewhat angry sigh and picked up the pace, barely making it past the cutoff for Stark's censors before the systems switched back on... That was too fucking close, Christ Wade, pay more attention, will you? The whole plan is on you. Win or lose, it's your fault... If anyone gets busted, they'll find some way to pin it all on you.

With a shake of his head and a sigh, he kept heading towards his destination. He found himself on one of the streets he'd walked with Peter, and if he remembers correctly, this is where Peter had his panic attack... It's weird to think that was only a few days ago, and so much has already changed. Not just for the two of them, but for everyone.

Three days. He has to wait three days to see Peter again, and he already misses the little web-slinger so much. Monday, Peter will be cleared to go back to school, which means he'll be unsupervised. Whenever Peter gets the chance, he's going to slip away from the school to meet up with Wade, and they'll probably end up fucking in an alleyway somewhere close to the school. It's an amazing thought that Peter would still want anything to do with him, though, Peter didn't know what he'd done yet, and he certainly didn't know what was going to happen the more time they spent together.

Wade shook the thought away, along with the thought of fucking Peter senseless against a dirty concrete wall, and got on with his business. Well, we say business, but really we mean he went to his apartment and took a nap on the couch, the dialogue of Brokeback Mountain lulling him to sleep.


	25. twenty-five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter sneaks away to see his lover.
> 
> ;)smut;)

Peter waited two weeks before trying anything else. Wade thought it'd only be a couple of days, but Peter insisted that they waited for the adults to stop watching him like a hawk before he snuck off of school campus. He jogged the three blocks to their rendezvous point, the dimly lit alleyway between two skyscrapers.

The sound of the city seemed muffled there in the dark where he stood, dust floating around his head. Wade was there waiting for him in the darkness, a loose jacket around his shoulders to match the loose jeans around his waist. He had a smirk on his lips like he knew what was coming, but he looked a little shook when Peter lunged at him and smashed their lips together. Their tongues fought for dominance in frenzied desperation, each of them panting, trying to breathe in the taste of the other's air.

Hands roamed and made quick work of Peter's shirt, perky nipples exposed to the air and to the assault from Wade's tongue and fingers. Peter gasped, eyes fluttering closed.

Wade wasted no time in undoing Peter's jeans and pushing them down to his ankles. He took even less time in turning Peter around and bending him over until Peter was taking up most of the space in the alleyway that they occupied, sweaty back to clothed chest.

Wade made quick work of pushing his own jeans down to his knees before grabbing Peter by the hip.

"Wade, hurry, please, please..."

Wade couldn't deny Peter, and he couldn't even think about teasing the boy, not now that his dick was leading his brain. He pressed against Peter and ever so slowly began to press inside of him. He couldn't help the moan of Peter's name that dripped from his lips like water over a fall. It felt like heaven having Peter's tight heat around his length again.

Wade almost couldn't get enough of Peter's little gasps of pain. His head hung low as the stretch burned between his hips. It was painful but he loved it. He knew that for the next week when he moved he'd feel the memory of Wade fucking him in this dark little alleyway.

Wade bottomed out finally and leaned back against the wall, hips pushed out towards Peter. He nudged Peter's hips forward before pulling them back against his own again. He only needed to guide Peter for a moment of time before Peter was moving on his own, fucking himself back against Wade's fully-hardened cock, each thrust punching a moan out of his throat.

Peter started getting really confident with it. He put his hands on the wall in front of him and pushed back, looking over his shoulder and rolling his sinful little hips in a way that made Wade want to pin him down to the dirty ground at their feet and fuck him senseless. Peter combed his fingers through his hair and tugged on the ends ever so slightly, but it was enough for Wade to get the hint and grab a fistful of his hair. Wade pulled on it while he fucked quicker and harder into Peter, who couldn't contain his moans at this point.

Wade was losing himself in the feeling of fucking Peter against the wall. He got violent with it, one hand in Peter's feathery hair, his other arm around Peter's waist to hold him in place. He fucked Peter this time like it might be the last time. It was hard and quick and deep and Peter was loving it, moaning out like a cheap whore as drool dripped down his chin. He wanted to wreck Peter, wanted to make sure that he'd remember this when everything went to shit.

Wade wanted Peter to feel it all. He wanted Peter to feel him when he walked and when he sat. He wanted Peter to remember the feeling of being pounded in this alleyway when he beat off late at night when he knew nobody would see his sinful indecency or hear his pathetic moans. Wade wanted Peter to need him. To desperately plead and beg for another chance of having Wade inside of him, and at this point, he could already have what he wanted.

Peter already needed him, frantically yearning to keep Wade inside of him for as long as possible. He never wanted to lose this feeling he oh so desperately craved. He was obsessed with the feeling that fucking Wade brought to him. The carnal, animalistic desire to be pinned down and stretched open by Wade's monster cock was now stuck in his mind. He wanted to be the best Wade's ever had, and he wanted Wade to be the only one he'll ever have.

"Wade, ah, please, fuck.."

"Please what, Petey? Huh?" Wade teased. He knew what Peter wanted before he even asked. He easily picked up on the way that Peter pushed his hips back in a silent plea for more. "Please fuck you harder?"

"Oh God, Wade, yes, please yes, shit." Peter tilted his head back as Wade pulled his hair. Peter kept letting himself be pulled back until he was in an upright position and pressed against Wade's chest, calloused skin radiating heat and dripping with sweat.

Wade snaked his arm around Peter's leg and pulled, bringing Peter's knee up to his chest. "That's right Peter, beg me like a good boy."

Much to Wade's actual surprise, Peter did as he was told and immediately started begging. He begged to be fucked harder and deeper. "Please Wade, please, fuck me, fuck... I wanna be your good boy, Wade, shit."

Wade lifted Peter's other leg and the angle let him push even deeper into Peter's tight warmth. Wade had to admit, casually being balls-deep in a minor out in public was so fucking thrilling. Illegal, but thrilling all the same. Little Peter was so fucking sinful and addicting, once he started thinking about it he just couldn't make it go away until he came inside of Peter's shapely little ass. And now that he had the little Spiderling folded in half and impaled on his cock? He only wished he had a camera.

He shifted and let his arm slide across the back of Peter's leg, reaching out and easily grabbing hold of Peter's throat. Peter fucking wailed and let his head roll back, fingers loosely gripping Wade's arm.

"Oh? Do you like that? You like being choked like a little whore, Peter?"

For a half a second Wade was worried that the name-calling was a little too far for Peter until he felt Peter twitch around him. "Oh god yes, love it so much."

Wade was nearly getting off on just listening to Peter, this wanton whining side of him that nobody else had ever seen. Peter was usually very quiet, sure he talked a lot sometimes, but he was quiet. He used a quiet voice when he spoke, and he was very awkward when he did so. He was a quiet kid, but right now he sounded so promiscuous that Wade just couldn't help himself when he started pounding even harder into Peter. A simple shift of his hips had him slamming right up against Peter's prostate.

If he thought that Peter was loud before... Jesus Christ, Peter fucking screamed. Like actually yelled from the pleasure. His mind was just fucking gone at this point, focused on nothing but his own pleasure. Wade could feel Peter's drool on his arm but he didn't care anymore. All he wanted to do now was make Peter cum harder than ever before. He wanted to make Peter writhe and scream and cum for hours on end, but for right now he'd have to settle for making the most out of the little bit of time they had.

Wade kept violently beating against Peter's prostate, moaning because Peter tightened up with each thrust. Peter was getting a little too loud now. If anyone passed by the alleyway they'd think someone was being taken against their will, but Wade just couldn't bring himself to muffle Peter's chants of 'oh Wade, yes, fuck, yes, yes, yes, god it's so good, fuck!'. The chanting didn't last long because soon enough Peter couldn't even form words, producing nothing more than babbles and moans and whines, but they were so goddamn loud Wade finally had to reach up and cover Peter's mouth.

He had to drop one of Peter's legs to do so, but Peter didn't seem to mind the animalistic fucking. Being pounded so roughly that his body jerked with each thrust of Wade's hips. Their balls slapped together and it made Peter whine out as he gripped onto Wade's arm. He couldn't take much more of this...

"W-Wade, ah, oh god, oh god, Wade I'm gonna, oh god..." Was heard muffled against his hand.

With his lips right next to Peter's ear, he fucking growled. "No you don't, not yet Peter. Be a good boy and wait, can you do that for me? Can you wait for me Petey?"

Peter did nothing but nod his head, wanting to do his best to be good. Wade got tired of muffling the beautiful sounds Peter was making, so instead, he just slipped his fingers into Peter's mouth, letting the moans and drool run all over the place. Wade could feel his own edge, and he was standing on it.

"Alright, Petey. Want you to be a good boy and cum for me now. Come on, baby."

Peter came harder than he ever had, eyes rolling back as he clenched impossibly tightly around Wade. Wade was sure he felt his soul leave through his dick as he pulled Peter's hips firmly against his own and spilled his heavy load deep inside of Peter. Peter moaned louder when he felt it, and came again, but it was weak and the feeling sent Peter straight into being sensitive, but Wade wasn't finished. As he continued to fill Peter, he stroked the younger boy's twitching cock to milk out all of the cum that he could.

Peter tried to squirm away from Wade's touch, away from the touch that felt so good and still hurt so bad as it worked to coax more sensations from his oversensitive body, but Wade held him in place and refused to let up. Even as he came inside of Peter, he kept beating against the boy's now swollen prostate. Peter was full on sobbing from the feeling, tears now accompanying the drool on his face, but he made no move to push Wade away.

He cried out more, sobbing and whimpering and shaking violently as he came for a third time, leg giving out as the pleasure began to catch up to him. It felt so goddamn good but it was starting to hurt, but Wade still kept going. Wade came a second time and finally let Peter's other leg down, his burned hands being the only thing keeping Peter up. After a second of thought, he decided to let Peter fall down onto his knees. He let the boy fall forward onto the dirt, shoulders and face against the ground as he continued to fuck into him.

Peter clawed at the ground, sobbing as his dick started to harden up again despite all the abuse it's received in the last 15 minutes. Wade still didn't let up, but he couldn't stop himself from complimenting Peter. He told him about how pretty that he looked, covered in sweat. He told him how beautiful he looked when he cried for Wade's cock like he was. He told him about how gorgeous he was getting fucked senseless.

Peter cried something that sounded like 'thank you' over and over again, but he was sobbing so hard it was hard to tell, so Wade folded his body over Peter's to achieve maximum depth as he continued to abuse his sore little hole. He left hot slobbery kisses on Peter's neck as he stroked him in time with his thrusts. He felt Peter pushing his hips back against him, and he was fucking living for it.

"Are you ready to cum again baby?"

Peter was finally able to force words out as he sobbed. "Please, Wade, please let me cum for you, Wade please, need it so bad. Cum in me, Wade, please, want it so bad."

Wade smirked. "Alright baby, cum for me."

The permission was all that Peter needed before he was crying out again, painting the ground beneath him as Wade filled him up farther.

Wade pulled out slowly and gently pressed Peter's first plug into him instead. Peter blushed, knowing that it was inside of him now. They'd talked about it before, and Wade delivered because nothing was too good for his baby boy. Especially nothing like this plug, adorned with a pretty red jewel on the end. Wade helped Peter back into his clothes and caressed him and cuddled him and kissed him as much and as gently as he could. Peter looked so blissed out it was almost comical.

Wade didn't want to leave Peter now, but he had to make sure that he got back to school on time. Peter didn't want to go back either, he just wanted to cuddle and bang right here in the alley all day long, but soon adults would know he was gone. So Wade loaded Peter into his car and drove him back to school, making sure to ditch the car somewhere as soon as he was gone.

...Now that he'd been with Peter again, all he had to do now was wait for the plan to be set in motion... Wade wondered if it would work this time, but if it didn't, he'd keep trying until it did.

 

...He didn't think that Peter would mind too much.


	26. twenty-six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...yikes... sorry?

With Peter at school for the first time in days, Bucky felt stressed, to say the least. He wasn't worried about Deadpool, because at least he knew that if somehow Peter ended up in the mercenary's presence, he'd be safe there. The socializing with his friends might do Peter some good, but Bucky was worried about what it'll be like dealing with those bullies. He wasn't worried though, because Peter knew how to handle himself if need be, and now those assholes knew it too.

He didn't think that any of those bullies would think about bothering Peter now that they'd seen what he can do when he gets angry. Bucky thinks kids like that are the reasons for school shootings, and the online statistics only helped to further his theory... But Bucky didn't care much for statistics, he mostly cared now about results, and he'd do whatever it took to get them.

Like how all week Stark has had an attitude, Nat's been stressed, and Steve's been stressed AND worried. It left Bucky to be the rock of the group, and it wasn't hard to see the obvious irony in their scenario. With each member of their relationship being in a different mood, Bucky knew that he had to tend to them all differently. Each lover needed something different.

Natalia's been stressed, so what she might need is a massage, a good quiet evening and maybe some really good head... Steve's level of stress has been much higher, mostly because of how much time he spends around Stark. He won't let it show, but it really takes a toll on him. Steve will need something a little different to calm him down, like a good homecooked meal, some smooth 30's tunes, and a candlelit bath.

Now, Bucky Barnes had been intimate with plenty of men and women alike. He also used to have a younger sibling, and he was in the military, so if there's one thing he knows how to handle, it's an immature brat with an attitude... Which meant he knew just how to deal with Stark. 

 

He looked down at the stubborn brainiac where he was, kneeling motionless on the floor at Bucky's feet, waiting for instructions like he was meant to do. He could see the guilt on Tony's face, he knew what he'd done to deserve whatever punishment Bucky decided to dish out to him, and he knew he needed to behave and take it like he always did.

Now, this may sound bad, but Tony and Bucky made an agreement long ago when their relationship blossomed from a seedling to a sprout and Stark had been added into their relationship. Bucky was the oldest, he'd seen the world, he knew how to handle people and nearly anything the world put in front of him. It'd been made clear to Tony from the start that looks can be deceiving. Steve wasn't really very dominant. Every once in a while he'd get in a mood where all he wanted to do was be on top and make love to Natasha or fuck Bucky senseless, and they let him do as he pleased.

Nat was more dominant, easily giving commands and dolling out praise and punishment when need be; Bucky was a whole different story. Cut from a much nicer type of dominant cloth, he was about as dominant as one could be. He was the lead in their relationship, the one the others went to when they needed something, whether it be advice or to be put in their place. The three of them knew that Bucky could take care of them. He knew their minds better than they did, even on the days when he didn't know himself.

So when Bucky first approached him in the bedroom after he'd become part of the group and told him to kneel, Tony didn't hesitate to drop down onto his knees and shut his mouth. He was quicker then, but since he seems to have forgotten his place.

His place was here, kneeling, when and where he was told to. If he had to be told twice, he'd be sorry.

Bucky pet his hair and told him what a good boy he was for being so quick to listen even after all this time. Bucky hadn't touched Tony like this in a hot minute, so every moment he had under Bucky's hot gaze was a blessing to Tony.

"Sucha good boy for listenin' so quick..." Bucky trailed his thumb across Tony's bottom lip before sliding it into his mouth and over his tongue. He loved the way Tony responded to the smallest things. "You know why it's been so long since we've done this?"

Tony shook his head as best as he could while sucking on Bucky's thumb. Bucky took a moment to pull his hand away, leaving Stark in the middle of the floor with no contact once again.

"Haven't bothered to touch ya 'cause ya haven't bothered bein' good." Bucky watched the look on Tony's face. He saw the way his words stung Stark's ego, the way they stabbed his heart. "You ain't been nothin' but rude and inconsiderate to e'ryone around you, and m'gettin' really tired of it."

Tony's eyes dropped to the floor and all it took was for Bucky to snap his fingers loudly before Tony was holding his gaze again. "You're startin' fights with Stevie... Gettin' snippy with Nat... Yellin' at the kid... And don't think I don't know about your lil' secret, Tony."

Tony's eyes widened, and he looked so goddamn afraid that Bucky had learned something terrible. And in a way he had. Bucky squatted down to look Tony dead in the eye.

"I know you've been with Banner behind our backs... You can consider this your first 'n' final warnin' Tony. You get two choices... You can apologize, and break it off with Banner... Or you can be only with Banner."

Tony takes a shaking breath but Bucky shushes him before he gets a chance to speak. "You don't have to answer me now... For right now, you just need t'be taught a lesson about your attitude..."

Bucky runs his fingers through Tony's hair a couple of times before resting his metal hand on the back of Tony's head. Tony doesn't resist as Bucky guides his face into his crotch until he's smushed against the denim tent at the front of Bucky's jeans. Bucky always got off on having power in the bedroom, but he also really got off on taking care of his lovers. Right now Tony needed a little bit of hard love and a quick attitude change.

Tony knew this was his place, on his knees in front of a powerful man like Bucky, or maybe just Bucky period. He'd fallen more out of love with Bucky and the others and now saw it more as lust holding him to the group. Steve would be heartbroken, he thinks, but it's for the best that he leaves them.

For now, he didn't hesitate to open his mouth for Bucky's hardened length, but Bucky didn't move. Bucky watched him with hawk-like eyes for any sign of misbehavior. For any sign of guilt or remorse. Any sign of anything but lust. Despite the situation, the last thing Bucky wanted right now was to be intimate with Tony.

After a minute, Bucky pulled away entirely and yanked Stark by the hair until he rose to his feet. He tilted his head back to lessen the pull on his hair and the action exposed his neck for Bucky to grab onto with his free hand. He could feel Stark's pulse racing against his metal fingers. He felt Stark's nervous swallow against his palm. They both knew that Bucky was angry enough to be able to strangle Stark to death without a second thought right now.

In his already angered state, standing here with Stark only made it worse. He was more than furious, he was pissed because Tony Stark betrayed not just him, but Steve and Natalia as well. He tried to calm down because as angry as he was, he'd once begun to love Tony, but that just made him angrier. Knowing that the man in front of him, the man he'd started to really love, threw the three of them away for Bruce... It was heartbreaking and sickening all at once and he really could have just strangled Stark to death where he stood.

He knew it was only lusting keeping Tony here in this room. If he thought he was in any real danger, he'd have Friday do.... whatever it was she could do in this situation. He knew there were no less than 150 S.H.I.E.L.D. agents bustling about on base at all times.

Nevertheless, Bucky started to squeeze, slowly increasing the pressure on Tony's throat, and only then did the so-called genius begin to panic. "B-Buck-"

"Shut up... You don't get to call me that... Not anymore. Not after what you've done." He squeezed tighter and Tony's heart rate quickly elevated. He was afraid... Good. He should be. With the way Bucky was staring at him, eyes darkened with pure hatred and rage, he was lucky he was still alive.

"Do it then, if you want to so badly... Kill me." He choked, already struggling for air.

Bucky pressed his thumb down harder and brought Stark's face closer to his as he growled out, "Don't tempt me."

It didn't seem to be the response that Stark was looking for. Bucky could tell by the way his eyes widened farther and he began to claw at his metallic grasp. Bucky lifted him up so his kicking feet barely scraped the floor. Stark started to struggle harder, but it was quickly becoming clear that the more he fought, the harder Bucky gripped onto his throat. The old Bucky, The Winter Soldier, wouldn't have even taken this long to end Stark, but the closer he got to taking the life out of Stark, the less inclined he felt to do it.

It was getting too easy. Why hadn't anything happened yet? Friday was meant to alert someone at the first sign of Bucky turning on them, so why hadn't anything happened?

Bucky lifted Tony up farther and listened to the pained attempts at air and the weak, scared whimpers... Then the door opened, and standing there was Steve, with Natalia and Bruce behind him. So Friday had alerted someone. That someone just so happened to be the one person in the world that Bucky would listen to while he was like this.

"Don't try and stop me, Steve, you know what he did."

Steve takes a step forward. "Yes, I know what he did, but that's no excuse, Buck. He doesn't deserve to die for it."

Bruce moves to step forward and it makes Bucky's grip twitch, effectively cutting off that one little bit of airflow Tony'd had left. Nat blocks Bruce's path, fully aware that him entering the room would be a fucking bad idea.

"He betrayed you!" Bucky all but cries over his shoulder at Steve. Tears had made their way to his face. He didn't want to be a killer anymore, but Tony betrayed two of the only people he cared about in this world, and he had to pay for it. He had to. "He's never been my favorite... To me, he's just a scientific piece of scum, but the two of ya cared for him, so I did my best, but he's betrayed ya both now, and it's my job to protect you! What the hell m'I good for if I can't protect you?"

Steve and Nat were stunned. Bruce was startled, to say the least, and Stark was downright terrified as he desperately fought Bucky's grip. The world's number one most deadly assassin, The Winter Soldier, was halfway between murder and a mental breakdown (though one supposes they go hand and hand sometimes) right in front of them... The most terrifying man in the world was in tears.

And it made him even scarier.

Steve wasn't sure why Bucky was so worked up about it, but it didn't matter. He had to think quickly, Tony only had a few more seconds at most and as much as he'd like to see him choked, he wasn't about to let Bucky go down for killing Tony Stark.

"Buck this isn't you anymore. It's time to go. Let him go." He stepped up to Bucky and stood behind him, sliding his hand up his chest and settling it over his heart. He slid his other hand along Bucky's metal arm until their fingers touched. "Let him go, Buck."

Bucky hesitated for another beat before loosening his grip ever so slightly, and then all at once. Tony fell and crumpled to the floor, coughing and gasping for air, doubled over in a fit.

Steve kept his arm around Bucky and still held his hand as he walked him from the room. Natalia joined them on their walk, an arm slung around Bucky, leaning on him while they made their way out and down the hall to their bedroom.

Bruce waited for them to be a few steps away before he rushed in and to Tony's aid. In all the years of knowing Stark, he doesn't once remember being so scared for Tony's life before. He knelt down next to Tony who was still panicking as he fought to take a decent amount of air into his lungs and ran his fingers over the place where the bruises would sit atop Tony's throat. He could see the finger-shaped indents and the creases of the metal plates from Bucky's palm.

Tony looked up at him and asked, as best as he could manage, "Are you okay?"

Bruce shook his head quickly. "Don't you worry about me. Let's get you some water and get you some rest so you can heal." He began to scoop Tony from the floor. Tony protested but was ultimately too weak to deny the help.


	27. twenty-seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yikes (part 2)

Steve and Natalia walked Bucky into their bedroom and watched as he sat down on their bed and slumped over. They were nervous, nearly afraid of what'd just happened, and what could still happen if Bucky was in the middle of a fit... These things happened sometimes. Usually, they weren't so bad, just some snarky comments or angry glares for a little while, and then everything calmed down again and they had the real Bucky back again, but this was different. Bucky was in tears, and Steve can easily say that he hasn't seen Bucky cry since long before he went into the ice.

"James... What's got you so worked up, honey?" He heard Natalia ask as she sat beside him. She brushed his hair back from his face and he leaned into her gentle touch. Steve and Nat and Peter were the only people in this world that knew how to treat him with any kind of gentle care. He craved the soft touches he got... Everyone else was so... Rough.

Sam was learning, well, trying to learn. Once he punched Bucky in the shoulder, as a friendly greeting that's popular in this century, and the violence set Bucky off. Since then, Sam's found the line and known not to cross it. As a counselor to veterans with PTSD, Sam knew why Bucky reacted the way that he did.

"He... He betrayed you... He went... He went behind your backs and he..." Bucky's hands were shaking. Nat already suspected that there was a reason that Bucky was reacting this way to something so... Mediocre, but she didn't know what. She looked to Steve, who seemed to already have it all figured out.

"Buck... Is this about what you told me? About before?"

Bucky let out a whimpering sob that confirmed the answer to Steve's question. Natalia looked a little confused as she looked up at Steve, but he wasn't about to tell her. It wasn't his place and lovers or not it would be a serious break of trust and privacy to Bucky.

The room was nearly silent, no sounds filling the air but Bucky's cries and the grinding of the metal plates in his arm. He'd balled up his fist, and Steve knew he was angry, but Bucky looked like he was ready to speak, so he stayed silent to let him do so.

Bucky took a shaking breath and lifted his head slightly, hair in his eyes, "Before when I... When they had me... When I was... Him. When I was him, he... They made him, made me... Sometimes, sleep with people... T-To get information..." He swallowed loudly before continuing on, shaking getting worse as he progressed. "It always felt wrong... And I didn't... And I didn't know why until I was coming back... Until I was starting to be me again, and... And then I knew why. B-Because, if Steve was alive like I thought he was then that meant that I... That I was..."

Natalia wrapped her arm around him and pulled his head to her chest. "No, James, you didn't betray him... You couldn't have known."

Steve was silent, mentally making plans to wipe out every last HYDRA scum even if it meant dying in the process. He knew they wouldn't ever be free of this pain caused by those, as Peter said, snakes until Steve got rid of every last one of them.

Steve was a bit of a violent person when it came right down to it. He was never afraid to get into a fight, no matter what it might cost him. Even when he was smaller than Peter is now, he'd fight anyone with an attitude. Bucky always said he could be a dad with an attitude like that, and Steve always agreed. He'd always hoped that one day he and Bucky would be parents together.

Steve sat down and said nothing as Bucky put his head down into his lap. Today was a close one, he knew. Bucky almost slipped and killed Stark, and they couldn't have that. That'd put Bucky away again, and Steve wasn't about to let Bucky be taken away from him again. Especially not after the last time. He never thought he'd see Bucky again after the fall... That's why he didn't have any problems going into the ice. It would save a lot of people, and he already didn't have anything to lose at that point.

He had Peggy, but she wasn't really his. It was 1945. After Steve went into the ice, Peggy went on to fight, like he knew she would. She had a family. A husband, children. She became a godmother in 1970 when Howard and Maria had their baby. Steve would have only made her life more difficult... It's strange to think that if he'd been around, he probably would have been Tony's godfather all the same.

Tony... Steve didn't really know how he was supposed to feel about everything Tony'd just put him through in the last few months. They'd been arguing so much, but half of the time Steve didn't even know what they were arguing about. They'd argue for hours and make it from point A all the way to point Z and then some in as little as an hour. Their voices rose to levels so ungodly that Steve was glad the rooms were sound-proof.

He had sensed something was off about Tony recently, he just couldn't put his finger on it. Every time he approached the subject, Tony went on the defensive. Steve knew the signs. He knew what was happening, he just wanted to ignore it and be happy. He truly cared for Tony, but it was obvious that Tony didn't feel the same anymore.

Steve knew Tony was cheating, but the part that probably hurt the most is that he was cheating with Bruce. Someone who called himself Steve's friend. Someone who regularly smiled in his direction greeted him with kindness and respect. Someone who cracked jokes with and ate dinner next to and spoke to when he was having problems. He used to go and rant about Tony sometimes because even if Bruce wasn't listening then Steve would've gotten it off of his chest.

Maybe, he thinks, Bruce had been listening to him the whole time, relaying the information to Tony. Maybe he was helping him change and somewhere the line got... Muddled.

But it doesn't matter now, what's done is done... Steve can easily say that when Bruce came to talk to him today, the one thing he wasn't prepared to hear was 'Tony and I have been having an affair behind your backs'. He really didn't expect to hear 'Tony and Bucky have been alone together for a while and Friday just alerted me that Tony's in danger and I need your help' either.

He sure as shit didn't expect to see Bucky in such a state... He was really in the mood for a cigarette, but he refused to move while Bucky was laying across his lap. Bucky was more important to him right now, though if he mentioned it to Bucky he'd probably agree and have one for himself... No! Steve, stop it, it's about Bucky right now.

He carded his fingers through Bucky's hair and sighed as he looked to Nat. She looked stressed and worried all at once. She looked like she needed a strong drink and a nap, but instead, she settled for grabbing a book and sitting at Steve's feet so he could play with her hair too.

Steve's stress was slowly leaving his body as he looked after the two of them. He was quick to realize that this was all he needed, just Nat and Bucky. Stark was too complicated to deal with. Buck and Nat were both very straightforward and blunt, never hiding what they wanted. If they wanted it, they told Steve about it and he did what he could for them.

Right now, they've silently told him that they just need him and his caring touch... He was told that once more when Peter arrived home from school. Bucky stirred and jolted upright so quickly that Steve was worried he'd had a nightmare, but he watched as Bucky's eyes settled on the door that opened mere seconds later to reveal Peter. His cheeks had tear tracks all over them and his body shook with the force of his sobs. His face was red and blotchy, covered in tears and snot.

Steve could see the watch on his wrist was lit up red, and from here he could hear it vibrating. The moment he was about to stand, Bucky stood and crossed the room to the boy and pulled him carefully into his arms. Bucky was closest to Peter, there was no doubt, so it wasn't really a surprise when Peter let himself fall against Bucky's chest for a cry.

"Что случилось, маленький?" Bucky spoke into Peter's hair. Natasha smiled at the name he called Peter.

The boy in question gripped tighter onto Bucky and cried harder. "They never stop!" Was what he managed through his tears. Everyone automatically assumed it to be the bullies that have plagued Peter's life as of late, and he told them that they were getting so bad he couldn't even focus on patrol anymore.

Bucky held Peter tighter, but only for a moment. He felt the boy wince against his chest and let him go. "What's happened to you?" Bucky asked.

Peter hesitates before answering. "They... They beat me up in the bathroom today... Still hurts. I'm not... I'm not healing right, I don't know what's wrong."

Bucky frowned impossibly harder and turned to Nat. She seemed to understand, just like Steve did. Despite the whole ordeal, they'd all just gone through, Peter needed Tony. He just hoped they'd all be on the same page of pretending that nothing happened between them, for Peter's sake. The poor kid had enough going on already as it was, they didn't want to add to his stress.

So, they set back out to find Tony.


	28. twenty-eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in the spooky spirit, some shit happens... or does it? but doesn't it?
> 
> happy halloween y'all.

The hallways inside were as dark as the alleys outside. All of the lights seemingly broken, every word seemingly suspended in the air above their heads. It was quiet. Still. The air felt crisp and cold, despite the insulation in the building. There was a creeping thought that somehow, someone was watching. Hairs rose and nerves were rattled. Surrounding everything was the unnerving thought that though nothing could be seen, someone else was in the room as well.

It was an unshakable feeling. The intense paranoia of being followed made it harder and harder to breathe with every moment spent cowering in the shadows. Somehow some parts of the hallway were even darker than the rest, and somewhere in Peter's mind, he wondered if he was the only thing lurking in these shadows.

He wondered where everyone else had gone. Surely he was just standing with them... Wasn't he? Where was he really? Was this real? And more importantly, what the hell just touched his shoulder?

He whipped around but saw nothing in the darkness. He needed to get to his room for his suit, and quickly... He'd be able to see better, and maybe it'd give him some clarity. 

He couldn't see very far in the darkness, and keeping a hand out in front of him did nothing to help his cause. He could not see his hand, to begin with, but he knew these halls. There was nothing in front of him to collide with, and if there was... it wasn't meant to be there. These halls were vast and empty in both directions. He thought. Could he have been wrong? He had to be dreaming, there was no way the walls were narrowing the farther he went.

He turned to go back the way he came, but he collided with a wall that he knew wasn't there a second ago. Or maybe it had been... There was no way of telling where he was in the compound right now, and it was terrifying. His silent steps made it easy for him to hear something scuffling not far off, but it never came closer than a few feet. It seemed like it was inspecting him rather than trying to take any kind of action against him. Whatever it was, Peter hoped that turning the lights on would make it go away.

On every wall he came to there was no light switch to be found and the darkness continued to consume him. He saw something dart across the hallway not far in front of him. A sweeping mass of uncertainty lingered around him as he went. He knew that whatever was following him could not be stopped. It could be slowed down at the least, with webs, but he still didn't have his suit.

The longer he went on, the more anxious he became, wondering if he'd ever find his bedroom. Suddenly, the idea struck him, and as bad as it was it was the only one he had.

"FRIDAY!" He whisper-yelled towards the ceiling. There was no response for several long moments, then came the low hum of power. Rather than being answered by Friday, the answer came from somewhere in the dark. A low growl that once before only existed in the deepest recesses of Peter's subconscious was now somewhere in the room with him, the sound echoing off of the walls to surround him, hoping to scare him into surrendering to his fate.

"Peter..." His name was drawn out and gargled in the throat of whatever monster it came from. "I knew..... You'd come for me..."

Peter took three big steps back the moment he saw them, two bright white eyes. Unblinking, they stared up from him from low to the floor, the pupil-less masses urging Peter closer without a word, but he willed himself to be still. To be sane. Doing so may have been the only way he'd stay alive.

"I... I-I didn't..."

The voice cut him off. "Of coursssse you did, Peter! You couldn't live without me..."

A shiver ran down Peter's spine. It was the visible kind of shiver that made everyone else wonder what the hell was wrong. In this case, everything seemed wrong.

"You know you can't shut me out, Peter... I... I am you. I'm inside of you... And! And there is no way to replace me, you can't, yank me out and put in something shiny.... And you can't remove me, either. The pills, Peter... You take them but you know they won't help, no, they... They make me..." There was a long pause, and Peter felt air brush across him. "Stronger."

Peter took a few quick steps backward and fell onto his back, the force of the fall knocking the air from his lungs. The mass sat atop of him, making it next to impossible to breathe. It leaned in close, definable only by its eyes... And then it smiled and leaned forward, allowing itself to be absorbed into Peter's body.

 

Peter jolted awake, eyes wide and full of fear. His hands shook against the tiled floor he laid upon. Looming over him were all the adults in charge of him, Steve, Bucky, Nat, Bruce, Tony... Even Steven was there, looking puzzled as he checked Peter's eyes with a small light. Somewhere in his brain, he knew Steven was looking to see his pupils dilate or to see if he had a concussion from the fall onto the floor. He really did come as soon as he heard.

"Peter, can you tell me what happened?"

All he could do was shake his head slowly, not nearly trusting his voice to carry a coherent thought across in a conversation. Steven sighed.

"You passed out. Peter, can you tell me if you've been suffering from shortness of breath? Increased heart rate? Dizziness? Um, chills? A sense of intense fear?"

The conversation skipped a beat before Peter nodded. Steven sighed. "To what? To all of it?"

Another beat and Peter nodded again. Steven seemed to understand and sighed. "Peter... What you have is a mild panic disorder. The stress and anxiety you have in your life cause your heart rate to rise exponentially, resulting in dizziness, feeling faint... I think your heart rate may have risen too high and... When's the last time you slept?"

Peter thought for a moment and weakly asked for Friday to find the answer. He was relieved to hear the real Friday speaking above him.

"Peter last had a full rest after being drugged and returned by the mercenary known as Deadpool." Steven quickly looked up to Bruce.

"Isn't that when that anomaly in the bloodwork appeared?" Bruce nodded. "Shit. Alright... It could be nothing, but it could also be very much not nothing... I suppose only time will tell."


	29. twenty-nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a calm day at the compound... probably.
> 
> dedicated to @RandomSadist

Peter had been on some much-needed bed rest after his latest incident. He took a week off of school to recuperate and recover from the recent stress of his day to day life. He'd been in the middle of playing video games when his phone buzzed beside him. Thinking that it was Mr. Stark, he picked it up before seeing that it was actually Wade, asking him how he was doing.

A smile blossomed on his face and he paused his game without hesitation to reply. Wade's text back was instant, and he was wondering if Peter would wanna come over for a milkshake if he could get away that is. Peter felt determined to be allowed out. It was now that he missed Aunt May's apartment more than ever. It was actually inside of the city, not hours away from everything and everyone he knew. He missed Delmar's, and Ned, and he was kinda starting to miss the loud bustling of the city around him.

Peter felt kinda sad now, thinking about everything that he was missing since he moved into the compound, and as much as he loved it here, nothing really compared to home. He clicked away from Wade's text message to call Aunt May, who took forever to pick up.

"Peter? What's up?" She sounded so different, he was starting to wonder what he'd missed.

"Uh, h-hey, Aunt May. How are... How are things?" He slammed his fist against his forehead, cursing himself for sounding so stupid. This is Aunt May, she's supposed to be easy to talk to.

"Things are fine, Peter, what'd you need?" She sounded almost, impatient, and it was strange to hear. She hasn't sounded like this in a very long time.

"I just..." He fiddled with his blanket. "I wanna come home... It's kind of a bummer living here... Everything's so far away..."

"Oh, I want you to come home too, Peter... But you can't." The words came as a shock. There was no logical reason why he couldn't come home. Did she not... Want him, anymore? Is that the reason she sent him here, to begin with? Because she wanted to be rid of him?

He heard himself croak out the question that he so desperately wanted to have the answer to, the one he needed to know. "Why?" Why couldn't he come home? Why did he have to stay here? Why did she want him to come here in the first place? She wasn't anywhere near being fond of Tony Stark, but she sent the boy that was like her child to live with him, even after everything that'd happened while Peter was in his care, and now she didn't want him back? Did she ever want him in the first place, or has she felt burdened this whole time after being saddled with Peter?

"I can't have you home yet."

A voice in his mind chimed, "Liar."

He tried to ignore it. "Why?" He asked, near begging.

"I'm very busy lately, Peter. I've been doing a lot of stuff, I wouldn't have the time to look after you in the way that you need me to."

The voice chimed in again, "Sssshe's lying to youuu."

He wanted to call her out, wanted to demand that he be allowed home, but his heart was too soft. His heart didn't want to press her for answers in fear of stressing her out farther than she already sounded. His heart told him to shut up and be content, not burden Aunt May anymore. He waited a moment before telling her goodbye and hanging up.

The flashing lights in his room finally made their way into his thoughts, and he could finally feel the watch endlessly bussing on his wrist. The door opened and there stood not Bucky as he expected, but Tony. He looked worried as all hell for Peter, and in truth he was.

Peter tried to get out of bed, but he lunged forward too hard and slipped, knocking his knees on the floor as he fell. Tony rushed forward and pulled Peter to his chest, trying to gently coax answers out of Peter. All Peter could do was cling onto Tony's shirt, shaking violently with the thoughts rattling around in his mind. All he could manage to get out was 'She doesn't want me anymore'. And maybe Tony didn't understand at first, but that didn't matter.

What really mattered was that Tony sat with Peter, rocking him and coaxing him to take slow breaths, going so far as to breathe along with him until Peter got the hang of doing it for himself. Tony played with his hair, and at this moment Peter felt more like family to Tony Stark than he ever had before. Peter finally calmed down enough to breathe, and ended up falling asleep.

Tony took that time to ask Friday what the hell happened to set Peter off, and she could only say that Peter made a call to May Parker and seemed to be in visible distress the longer that the call went on. He asked her if she knew what went on during the call, but she confessed that she could only provide what happened on Peter's end of the call. He asked her to play it back, so she did, and Tony could hear the shake in Peter's voice, the desperate begging.

Tony felt it pull on his heart. He knew what it felt like to be an outcast at one point. He used to be just like Peter, the genius kid whose parents had died in some unknown tragic story. He knew what it was like, not feeling like they fit in like they belonged somewhere. Tony spent years of his life in all of the wrong places just because he desperately wanted to fit somewhere. He was like a puzzle piece with no picture to make.

Tony decided that from that moment on, he was gonna do whatever it was gonna take to make Peter feel welcome. While Peter slept on his lap, Tony checked the real estate listings, searching everywhere between Brooklyn and Queens. He bookmarked one that he knew would be perfect before returning to messing with Peter's hair.

This was going to be interesting...


	30. thirty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> y'all we're on chapter 30 and I have plans to make this work be as long as the song it's named after (tears don't fall, by bullet for my valentine is 4:40 as a single, but 5:48 on the album)
> 
> so I have plans for this to be a super long story, but it may take me a while because I'm slow, so bear with me and the possible filler chapters ahead!

With Peter at school the next day, Tony made his way to Steve in the gym. Steve didn't seem to be too happy that he was there, but Tony knew that he was listening nonetheless.

"I know you've been looking for a good apartment." Was Tony's opening line.

Steve didn't look over his shoulder and continued on the punching bag. Where was this conversation going?

"Peter called May yesterday. He was practically begging to leave. He says it's a bummer here. That everything is so far away. His friends, his school, the places he used to visit... It's finally come to my attention that maybe this isn't the best place for a teenager."

Steve didn't answer again, but Tony noted his raised brow, an expression that said 'gee, you think?' but nonetheless, he carried on.

"I don't know what May said, but what I got from Peter tells me that she basically didn't want him to come back."

Steve paused at this, and Tony went on as he does.

"So I found some houses in Brooklyn and Queens... There's some really nice houses in Brooklyn. There's a couple of nice ones I thought you and Bucky might like. Big kitchens, lots of bedrooms." Tony pointed to a wall where Friday projected the photos of the homes. Steve paid close attention now, wondering just how far this conversation would go.

"And then... I came 'cross this old apartment building. It's been empty for a really long time... Maybe you'd recognize it." He nodded towards the wall where the building was projected.

Steve felt a tug on his heartstrings, as there stood his old apartment building, out of time. The old brick building stood tall, seemingly the only building left untouched on the whole block. He saw the way it stood, tall, almost proud if a building could even be that. he saw the old stairs and remembered how they groaned when walked on. He remembered the cold winters he spent there, in the poorly insulated rooms, shaking from the cold and hoping it wouldn't kill him.

He remembered Bucky, and his apartment being just a few steps away. He remembered when Bucky moved into his already small apartment. He remembered how they'd shared his bed and he used Bucky's body heat to live through the winters. To see that the building was intact after all of these years was incredible.

"Nobody's been inside in a long time... Historians went into the old place exactly once to record what the apartment used to look like, for the museum replica..."

Steve's eyes were wide as he stared at the photos as he spoke. "How..."

Tony just shook his head and shifted his weight before looking up at the blonde. "My old man put a lot of effort into trying to find you, you know? He searched for a long time. He knew you were alive somewhere out there. And he was waiting for you to find your way back... Your building was gonna be demolished. He bought the whole thing, made sure everything was still inside, and then he left it alone... Aunt Peggy said it was because he wanted you to have somewhere to go when you got back."

Steve's heart jumped at the sound of 'Aunt Peggy'. Steve thought that it made sense that Peggy would end up being like family to Tony, and all Steve could do was laugh and say, "You know, if I hadn't crashed, you might've been calling me Uncle Steve."

Tony's eyes went wide, but then he laughed. "That's terrifying."

After the two calmed down, they just looked at one another for a long moment before Tony cleared his throat. "So, I want you to have the deed to the lot. You get the whole building... You take Buck and Nat and Peter, and you guys live there... I'll pay for any repairs to the place."

Steve just stared at the man in front of him, and his heart was clogging his throat so badly that he couldn't speak, and if he could, he didn't know what he would say. This was the man he'd loved with so much of his being. This man's father was once someone he'd considered to be his friend... And after all of this time, Steve was still such a large part of Tony's life because of Howard. It was a wonder how Tony ever loved him at all.

Steve gave Tony a real, true smile. "Thank you Tony... I don't know how I'll ever repay you for this..."

 

Tony shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Just take care of Peter."


	31. thirty-one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter deals with another change in his life.

The news about the move was delivered to Peter almost two weeks after Tony and Steve talked in the gym. It took nearly that long for Steve to talk to Bucky and Nat about it, after all. Well, talking to them was easy, but waiting for them to decide if it was something they even wanted to do was something else entirely.

Bucky was all for going back to the old fire-trap, as he called it, but Nat worried what it might mean for Peter to be moved yet again. They spent days deliberating about this move and the effects that it could have on Peter and his well being. They agreed that he'd be much closer to everything he loved, and Queens was barely a half an hour away. They just wanted him to have the chance to be a regular teenager again.

They wanted him to go to parties and sandwich shops and to spend weekends with his friends. They wanted him to have the freedom that he didn't have here. They wanted him to have chores and an allowence and maybe even a pet if he wanted. But they didn't want to keep him fron Tony. Even if they weren't all getting along at present, Tony was still part of Peter's family, and they wouldn't be the people to keep them apart.

They spent some time talking with Tony about it, wondering if they could figure something out about it. They wanted to know everything they needed to know before they brought it up to Peter at all. Bucky was quiet about it a lot, he'd been in a slightly bad place lately, but he was putting everyone else first to take care of them. He'd worry about himself second.

He did spend a lot of time listening though. He listened to Steve and Nat, and he'd listened to them both talk to Tony, but he never made any input. Sure he thought some things, but nowadays Bucky was a man of few words. Even fewer than before... Everything.

Nobody seemed to mind that he didn't talk much, because some days nobody else said a whole lot either. As of right now, he was sat on a small swivelling stool in Tony's lab, having his arm worked on while Steve and Nat watched on, discussing more plans and ideas about the move. He'd been kinda zoned out, but when he finally focused he heard Nat say, "It's gonna be our first Christmas with Peter. We should at least be able to do it somewhere he's comfortable, and that place isn't here."

Steve nodded in silent agreement, and Bucky just blinked. He can barely remember the last Christmas he had with Steve. He knows that he spent all that he had to get the little punk some good pencils. He was bummed that he couldn't get him a new book too, but he promised that he'd get him one for his birthday. Steve told him not to worry about it, that he didn't want him to waste his money.

Nowadays they didn't have that problem. Money was a lot different now. A dollar then was almost 20 dollars now. 50 dollars was now worth 900 dollars. Bucky's still amazed at this new world.

He flinches when Tony's tools send a sting up his arm and Tony quickly apologizes. Vision floats down through the ceiling, and nobody even blinks at his intrusion.

"Buddy, we talked about this, didn't we?" Tony says without looking.

Vision agrees, "Yes, but I thought this to be the quickest way to tell you that Mr. Parker is on his way down."

Everyone perks up a little at Peter's name and somehow it's silently settled that now would be the perfect time to tell him about the apartment. Peter bounds down the stairs and Nat gets up to open the door, even though she's sure that he knows the code. He's carrying his bag in front of him and his smile is wide. He starts talking at 100 miles a minute talking about how he had a history project, and that he could technically do it on Steve because he's a historical figure.

Steve smiled widely at the idea and once Peter finally calmed down and sat on the floor by Bucky's feet, Nat started talking to him, using a gentle and caring tone.

She started with explaining how she Bucky and Steve have been looking for a place to live off base because thet honestly can't stand the seclusion either. She told him that they knew he didn't want to live on base anymore either. Then she saw his eyes light up as she told him they'd found a place, and they'd love for him to live with them. He got so excited before stopping and asking about Tony.

Tony tried to insist that he'd be fine, and that he wanted this for Peter too, but everyone could hear how it hurt him, even if he wouldn't admit. Petr turned to Tony and told him that he'd come on weekends if he wasn't busy. Everyone knew that Peter would make time to be with Tony.

It warmed their hearts to know that he held Tony so highly. They all knew that his little boy in front of them had the largest heart, and it had room for everybody.

Peter's phone buzzed in his pocket, but he knew not to look at it here. Nobody needed to know that Peter had that kind of love coming. Not now. He knew it was a text from Wade, probably a picture, like the text before. Peter never really sent pictures, but for Wade he'd make an exception.

But for now, Wade could wait. They'd be together again soon.


	32. thirty-two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "it's hard to breathe"

Standing on the road, the three looked up at the old building. Natasha seemed ready to see the place that her boys used to live, but Steve and Bucky were glued to the ground they stood on. It's been such a long time since they've seen this place.

Bucky remembers that the night before he shipped out, he made sure to cover his things with sheets to make the cleanup easier for someone else. He didn't think he was going to make it back, but he never would have told Steve that. 

Steve remembers coming home late that night and seeing the sheets covering some of the furniture, and not seeing Bucky at all. He knew that he'd be with the others, but some part of his pain riddled heart was hoping that Bucky would be in bed when he got back.

It was the first night in a long time that Steve slept without Bucky. Steve remembered waking up in the morning alone in bed like he'd been the night before. He remembered the dread filling his veins like ice water as he wondered if last night was the last time he'd ever see the man that he loved. He wanted to run to the platform as quick as his short lungs and shitty legs could take him and kiss Bucky for what might be the last time, but he knew he couldn't. He'd get them both killed, but some part of him thought it might be worth it if Bucky didn't have to go to war, and they could die together.

Steve remembers that he never got the chance to do anything with the apartment. He left the same day he got the serum, which meant that everything inside would be exactly the way that it was left. With all of their old belongings and documentation of their old lives, their old love. Steve started to walk up the path to the stairs, and Nat followed, but the pair paused when they realized that Bucky wasn't behind them.

"Buck? Are you coming?" Steve could see Bucky's hands shaking as he stared at what used to be their front door. "Baby?"

Steve could hear the shake in Bucky's voice, it's a sound he hasn't heard in a while. "I came here once..."

Nat tilted her head. "You mean... Before?"

Bucky nodded and looked at the ground. "I just... I got away once... Just for a little bit... I remember. I remembered... Was rememberin'."

Steve's heart hurt for Bucky as he walked back down the path and took the man into his arms. "You're gonna be alright baby... This is our home, remember? Nothing can hurt you here."

Nat watched her boys and suddenly felt extremely out of place here. This was never her home, it was theirs. She felt a lot like she was intruding on a life that wasn't hers. And sure, maybe if she'd been in this country at the time she could've had a place somewhere in Brooklyn, but that's not how her life was meant to work out. This was their home, their town. Brooklyn Heights didn't feel like the place for her yet.

She reached a hand out to Steve as he walked back up the path with Bucky holding onto him. She took his hand and led them both up the stairs and out of habit, Bucky kicked the brick on the way to the door, revealing the old key that'd been hiding there for so long. Steve picked it up and hesitated only for a moment before he unlocked the old door. It rattled and creaked when it was pushed open and Nat coughed when the dust hit her.

This was a place out of date and out of time. Old and dusty with windows that rattled when the wind blew. The floor creaked as they walked across it and Bucky's eyes fell on the shelves of their old belongings. The basket by the door with their books and Steve's old drawing pads was yellowing and falling apart. Tony'd had the electricity turned on, but none of them were so sure that any of the fixtures would actually work anymore.

Nat tried the switch and there was a crackling noise above their heads before the lights came on, slowly illuminating an old life that no longer existed, between two men that never came home from the war. She watched their faces as they took in the sight of the room around them. It was almost like a museum with how old everything was. The rickety old bed, the worn out armchairs, the scuffed table. There were still yellowing newspapers stacked by the fireplace.

Pictures were hanging crookedly on the walls, and the first thing Steve could bring himself to do was straighten them out. His mother would be appalled at the display of crooked photos, and he had to honor her somehow. Steve remembered exactly how he'd left the apartment when he'd been here last, so it was easy to pick out what Bucky had moved when he'd been here so long ago.

"It's hard to breathe," Bucky mumbled. Steve wasn't sure if it was because of the dust or because of the memories, but he agreed and wiggled open the squeaking windows. Slowly, they started to clean up. They dusted and swept and washed all day. This apartment only had one bedroom, which had been fine then, but now it was... Still fine, because they owned the whole building. Peter could have his own 'room' and all of the privacy he could want.

The walls here weren't soundproof though, so everyone would need to be considerate of everyone else. A loud truck was heard outside and when they looked, Tony was getting out of the passenger's side with some other agents. Tony asked them which part would be Peter's, so he could install all of the good equipment for the kid, and well, them too. Another truck pulled up, with contractors, supplies. Carrying the quickest things to fix, like the sinks and outlets.

They spent the rest of the day and all of the night making repairs, and that was just to the old apartment and the one downstairs that they'd picked for Peter to have, and everyone put in the effort to make the repairs go quicker and smoother. Electricians rewired the apartments in fairly quick fashion for how much needed to be done.

By the time everyone went home, the sun had already been up for quite some time, and Steve, Nat, Tony, and Bucky, all sat on the 'porch' outside of the apartment to just enjoy the fresh air as the day started for everyone else. Nat played with Bucky's hair, speaking calmly to him in Russian. He smiled down at her and kissed her forehead.

Steve leaned against the front door and closed his eyes... It was gonna be a good life, starting now.


	33. thirty-three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short filler, will be continued in the next chapter, was going to be longer but I procrastinated and would miss my deadline if I tried to put it all in one chapter :(( sorry.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> happy Hannukah to anyone who celebrates!! // thoughts on Jewish Bucky?

Bucky was in tears as he laid in what used to be his and Steve's old bed. The frame creaked with every shaking breath and groaned with every sob. It'd been so long since he was here last, but somehow it felt all too familiar to him.

 

The last time he was here, it was cold and dark. A draft came through the poorly sealed windows and the door rattled with every gust of wind. He didn't remember why he was drawn to the place, but he remembered the feeling in his heart. The dark, throbbing despair that ached with every beat of his heart and filled his veins with ice-cold water. He remembers the way that The Winter Soldier made his way through the apartment. He was slow, eyes accustomed to the darkness that engulfed him. He let his eyes flick over each object in the small space but froze when his eyes landed on a photo.

Inside of the frame were three people, an older sickly looking woman, a smaller wiry-looking man, and a darker man that made something click in his brain. He was looking at a lost memory, his old self staring back into him with eyes that could no longer be recognized as human. In the glass, he could see the reflection of himself, and now he was something he couldn't stand. His hair reached his shoulders, his jaw was set in stone.

His gaze was as cold as the air outside but his heart was colder. On his hands, blood. He remembered scrubbing them until they just bled more. He kept circling back to that picture that night, staring at the other man. His blue eyes awoken something inside of his chest, a flourish he didn't remember feeling before. It hurt, but it felt beautiful, a strong bonding like love that he couldn't believe he'd ever forgotten, and a name that he held to like his closest secret.

Their names plagued his tongue like the copper taste of blood and drove him mad with the longing of who they used to be. He believed them both to be gone, and in a way they were. He remembers the day that the woman in the photo passed away. Her life was burdened with wars she knew that she couldn't win and a life that she could never have beaten, and she was taken not by men but by sickness uncured.

And the young boy- no, man- in the photo was long gone now too, his body traded in for a bigger and stronger version of the one he'd sported in the past. He briefly recalled a taller version of the man standing by his side during the war, touching his shoulder as they stood in the snow, kissing him as they laid in their tent... His memories clouded with gunfire and death, his heart falling as quick as he once did.

He remembered that fall all too well, the dread welling up in his throat as Steve got farther and farther away until he disappeared from sight. He never thought that fall would end, but he knew that he would always remember the way that Steve cried out his name, the pained voice echoing off of the earthy walls around him.

 

His heart-rate spiked at the thought of what happened then, and he shot out of bed. It took him a minute to ground himself, to remember that he wasn't back at that place anymore, and he wasn't that guy anymore. He didn't think that Nat would be back from the stores for a long while yet. She was determined to find the perfect curtains that would bring life to the place, but still resemble the old ones. She even took one of the moth-eaten piles of fabric with her.

Steve was at the grocery store, but God only knew when he would be back either. He'd usually only take so long by staring at the prices in outrage, he remembered when everything was cheaper, but there also wasn't a lot to choose from back then either. Maybe some cheeses and meats, eggs and a few ingredients here and there, but they never had the money for much so they only got what they could.

He was still muffling his cries with his arm when the front door opened, but even his heightened senses couldn't help him out of this one, because it was taking everything that he had to try and shut off his mind.

Steve, who had returned without any perishables of the kind, could feel that something was off and sat his bags down before making his way into the bedroom.

There, he saw Bucky lying on his back, his flesh arm across his face to quiet his cries.

And his heart sank.


	34. thirty-four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we all need a little love // light stucky smut
> 
> so sorry I didn't get this out to you yesterday! I'm gonna try and get it out super early today! // what are your timezones & what time is it for you?

"Bucky?" Steve's voice was soft as he walked towards the bed.

Bucky didn't try to deny his tears, as he knew he'd already been caught. Any denial would just worry Steve further than what was necessary, and Steve was already worried more than he needed to be in the first place, and Bucky refused to make it worse for him when he had so much going on, to begin with.

Bucky didn't move as he felt Steve sit down on the edge of the bed beside of him. Steve moved his arm away from his face, and that's when Bucky focused on his worry-stricken face.

"Baby, what's the matter?" Steve brushed Bucky's hair from his face. He didn't use the pet names very often, but Bucky loved it when he did. Steve knew, but he didn't want to use them too much, in case it started to be too much for Bucky instead.

Bucky's voice trembled and it made Steve crumble. "How... How can you love me...?"

Steve's heart hurt for his lover. "What do you mean? How could I not?"

Bucky shook his head. "How can you love me after what I did?" A sob left his lips and Steve sighed and pulled him into his arms.

"It wasn't you that did those things and you know it... I loved you before, and I'm gonna love you forever. No matter what happens," Steve tilted Bucky's chin up. "Okay?"

Bucky nodded and watched Steve's face for a minute before focusing on his lips for a long beat. He finally leaned in and kissed Steve, and Steve understood what it was that Bucky wanted from him. He wanted Steve to prove that he still loved him, that he was still appealing and good enough. He wanted love, and by God, Steve was going to give it to him without hesitation.

He kissed Bucky back with all the gentle sweetness that he had inside of him. He wanted to crawl into Bucky's skin and pull out everything that ailed him. He remembered a time where Bucky would do the same thing, claiming that one day he'd find a way to take all of Steve's pain away. Bucky delivered his love to Steve whenever he wanted it back then, after light protesting over Steve's health and the laws, but he always gave in for Steve, nonetheless.

So Steve pulled him closer, kissed him deeper, held him tighter. He tucked Bucky's unruly hair behind his ear and cupped his cheek. He shifted until he hovered over Bucky. The brunette looked up at him with loving and still lustful eyes. See, Bucky didn't bottom very much, but when he did it was a treat for everyone involved.

And Bucky, who still had tears in his eyes, was clinging onto Steve's arms and quietly begging for him to bed him properly.

Steve kissed him gently and slid his fingers beneath Bucky's shirt. He could feel the risen scars along his skin, and he didn't know which ones were obtained in battle and which ones were self-inflicted. Steve wasn't sure he wanted to know the difference.

Bucky trembled under his touch and let out a breath. He knew what Steve was thinking, but Steve quickly moved passed it so he wouldn't freak Bucky out any farther. He stripped himself and Bucky both from their shirts and he could feel Bucky's erection against his hip.

Steve didn't waste any time in undressing them, but he always took his time with Bucky. He always took the time to get him relaxed and ready, took the time to make him feel loved and beautiful. Because he was. 

Steve began to press into Bucky, slowly and gently. Bucky's arms wrapped around his shoulders and he used this to pull Steve closer to him as if Steve didn't want to be as close to Bucky as humanly possible. Steve pulled back a little to watch Bucky's face as he rolled his hips. He saw the tears in the corners of Bucky's eyes but paid no mind. Bucky had already been crying beforehand, and he was very emotional when he bottomed.

Bucky's lips held a smile though, and his cheeks were flushed a beautiful rosy pink. Steve could never get enough of how gorgeous his boy was. It was a dream come true to be with him every day.

The two continued on, making love in a rickety bed. The creaking sound of the bed frame mixed in with the sound of their moans, and it was almost like a song the way the tones pressed together, just how those boys were. Pressed together so closely that nothing could ever come between them. Lips and tongues meeting somewhere in the middle of it all, dancing together like a couple at a ball.

One of the tears slipped down Bucky's face and Steve kissed it away as he tried so hard to do with all of Bucky's problems. Bucky dug his fingernails into the taut skin of Steve's muscular shoulders, and just like it was so long ago, they tried to be quiet. And just as it was, they failed, but who cared? Certainly not the two of them. All they cared about right now was each other and the love that they were making.

This was the way to restore some of that self-confidence that Bucky struggled with so often. Knowing that even after all they'd been through and all The Winter Soldier had done, Steve still wanted him and loved him and found him attractive was enough sometimes.

Steve combed his fingers through Bucky's hair and listened to the tell-tale signs of his impending release. The delicate whimpers and the clenching of his eyes clued Steve in to just how close Bucky really was.

"That's it, come on baby..." Steve purred against Bucky's lips. Bucky, who was far past speaking, sputtered something in Russian as he pulled impossibly closer. "I've got you Bucky..."

Bucky finally managed to get out something in English, but all it was was "Stevie, Stevie, Stevie..." Over and over again like a mantra, the only word he could think of to say, but Steve understood.

 

He pressed his lips to Bucky's neck and the brunette came between them. Steve's own release came simultaneously, and the two men lay tangled together, a mess of hair and muscle while catching their breaths. And their hearts were entwined the same way their limbs were, and they were in love just like they always had been.

 

Bucky began to doze off and Steve pressed a kiss to the tender skin of his temple, on the side where the old machines used to torture him, to prove that he was more than what happened and that he always would be. "I love you, James."


	35. thirty-five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry everyone, I could have sworn I updated before! I feel so bad for missing days...
> 
> Did you see the new trailer yesterday? That one kinda hurt.

Peter couldn't manage to shake the queasy feeling he had. He'd been hunched over the toilet throwing up for 10 minutes, even though now he had nothing left to throw up. He was just curled up on the tile coughing up bile. He thought if he coughed any harder he might throw up his own lung, but that was highly unlikely.

His head hurt so bad all he wanted to do was curl up and sleep, but he needed to get out of here. He felt too sick to stay at school, but his phone was in his bag and his bag was in his locker and- he suddenly remembered the watch on his wrist and double tapped the screen as he coughed.

The watch beeped and he coughed again. "Friday, call Mr. Bucky please."

He turned and retched once more as Friday connected him to Bucky, who took a moment to pick up. "Hello? Peter are you okay?"

"M-Mr. Bucky can you come get me please, I... I don't feel so good."

There was some shuffling on the other end of the line before Bucky responded. "Yeah, buddy I'm on the way. Wait in the office for me, okay? I'll be there as soon as I can."

Peter nodded even though he knew that he couldn't be seen. "Thank you. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, Peter. I'm on my way."

Bucky was quick to hang up and Peter put a lot of effort into pulling himself up off of the bathroom floor and down the hall to the office. The secretary asked Peter if he'd called someone and he said yes before being offered a couch to lay on, but Peter decided that curling up on the floor would be just fine.

He stayed there, how long he wasn't sure, until Bucky came to get him. Bucky signed the little paper and walked around the desk to carefully scoop Peter up off of the cold floor. Peter curled up to Bucky's chest and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt dizzy but held tightly onto Bucky's shoulders.

Once he had a dream sort of like this, except he and Bucky were romantically involved... It was kinda weird but he wouldn't deny the dream he had was a little hot. Peter didn't know what he was thinking right now, his head hurt too bad.

Luckily, Bucky brought Natasha's car instead of either of the bikes. Bucky safely tucked Peter away in the back seat, Peter's phone falling out of his bag in the process. Bucky grabbed it up with the intention of putting it back but caught glimpse of a text from Wade on the screen, which read something along the lines of how much he couldn't wait to see Peter again.

Bucky wondered if Wade had any idea what could be wrong with Peter but knew that there was only one way to find out, and now was not the time to go looking for trouble from another mercenary. Also, Steve would kick the asses of everyone involved.

For now, it was important to just get Peter home and safely tucked into his bed.

Steve was at work, he'd started a new job that understood that he'd sometimes have to ditch work for Captain America duties on short notice. He'd picked it up because he wanted to provide for his family, without the help of Tony Stark. He wouldn't admit it, but sometimes he felt like a bum letting Tony do all the paying, especially now that they weren't together anymore, and Steve was too prideful to do anything else.

Nat was back at the compound. She didn't know how not to work. She's always needed to have something to do with her, ever since he dropped her off with Hawk-boy all those years ago.

So for now, it was just the two of them. And Bucky made easy work of getting Peter home, and into warmer clothes, and into bed underneath the best covers he and Steve had. He couldn't put him downstairs just yet as his part wasn't fixed up for him yet. And besides, he didn't want to leave him down there anyways, even if it was.

So he tucked Peter in, stuffed a hot pad under the blankets. The kid needed to sweat out whatever sickness was going on inside of him.

If only they knew then that it wasn't that kind of sickness.


	36. thirty-six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter can't seem to shake it... whatever "it" is. And neither can Bucky, though "it" isn't the same.

Peter was curled up in Steve's bed still, and he knew he didn't have a fever, so he wasn't sure what it was that was making him so sick. His Spider-sense was bouncing off of the fucking walls so much you'd think it downed 17 cans of Redbull. It was making Peter paranoid, and he couldn't stop shaking it was so bad.

Bucky was beginning to worry, even more so than he was before. He'd been leaning in the door for the last two hours watching this boy, his son, shake so violently and uncontrolled. It reminded him of a much harsher time in his own life, and he hoped to god that this was nothing like that.

Bucky swears to god that if HYDRA ever got their hands on Peter, no matter what it'd take, he'd mow down every single one of those fuckers. He'd rip them limb from goddamn limb for putting a single finger on his boy.

Bucky Barnes was a relatively gentle person, but when it came to his family, he would go to the ends of the Earth to protect them, even if it meant his very own life. Even now, he knew that HYDRA would be back, he could feel it in his bones. The whole, cut off one head and two more grow back, ordeal, wasn't entirely inaccurate. They were always two steps ahead, but not of Bucky.

He spent too many years inside of HYDRA for them to ever pull one over on him. They'd have to have some serious new tricks to even be able to get as far as one step ahead of him. He'd be damned if he let anything happened to his family.

Thinking maybe that Peter was cold, he looked for another blanket. He wouldn't find one of course, not a good one. He touched Peter's neck and felt that he wasn't cold, but hot, and that worried him more.

Peter was dead asleep, curled up in the smallest ball he could manage to contort himself into. One of his earbuds fell out, so Bucky carefully replaced it. He knew that Peter couldn't sleep without some kind of noise, and Bucky didn't make enough noise on his own to replace Peter's music in the slightest.

He sat down in a chair in the corner of the room and started reading one of the old paperbacks from the basket by the door. The letters were fading and the paper was turning a yellow color, but it was still legible. This was the first book he'd read in a long time, but he'd read this one before, and somehow he still remembered bits and pieces of it, in the same way, he remembered bits and pieces of himself.

He remembers an old button up that stayed tucked in because the last couple of buttons were missing. He remembers a pair of shoes that he used to shine religiously. He remembers making Steve breakfast in the mornings and holding him through the cold nights. He remembers Sarah and her hair falling out when he brushed it for her. He remembers the panic rising up in his throat like bile when he thought he would have to tell Steve that she was dying.

He remembers a day in the middle of the spring that he called his birthday. He remembers a family that once belonged to him but was now long gone. He remembers younger siblings that looked up to him, and how he left them to fight for their lives... He remembers that he never came back to them. He remembers that once upon a time he made a promise to do just that and that the girl he made it to probably wasn't around anymore.

He remembers the trauma of the beatings, of the needles. He remembers the fear bubbling inside of him like boiling water. He remembers how it felt to be tied down and helpless, having countless people touch his previously unmarked skin and turning it into something else entirely. He remembers the air. The soul freeing relief when it was Steve who stood over him to take him from that God awful place.

He remembers the fall. He remembers the heartbreaking fear that was worse than any he'd ever previously encountered. He remembers the soul-crushing weight of the fact that not only was he going to die but that his Stevie was going to blame himself for it no matter what. He knew that Steve would think about the what-ifs. What if he was faster, what if their places had been switched, what if, what if what if.

 

And what if, Bucky thought, as he looked to Peter's sleeping, shaking form... What if this was just a simple sickness? What if this would pass in a couple of days and Peter would be brand new? But then, he thought, what if it wasn't?

 

When Steve got home everything was quiet. The silence didn't faze him anymore, he was used to Bucky being pretty quiet as is. He knew that the trauma made him even quieter. Bucky had yet to come all the way out of that shell, but that was okay. Everyone heals differently.

When he walked into the bedroom and saw Bucky curled up in his favorite old ratty chair, he smiled but frowned when he followed Bucky's trained gaze to their bed. "Buck? What's going on?"

Bucky didn't take his eyes off of the mound of blankets and their gentle rise and fall. "I had to pick Peter up from school today."

Steve furrowed his brows as he took off his coat. "Another fight?"

Bucky shook his head and sighed. "Sick."

This caught Steve's attention pretty quickly. "I've seen his school papers, he's never taken a sick day in his life." That doesn't mean he's never been sick, no Peter used to be sick plenty. He always just sucked it up and went to school, usually with one of those paper surgeons masks. For Peter to actually leave school had to mean it was something big.

"Fever?" Steve put his jacket down and Bucky shook his head.

"Not at all... He was throwin' up when he called. Was sleepin' when I picked him up." Bucky shifted in his chair and tucked his feet beneath him like a bird on a nest. "No fever, n' he's been fine ever since."

Steve frowned and walked around the bed to pull the blankets away from Peter's face and tuck them beneath his drool-covered chin and he chuckled at the sight of this young boy asleep in their bed. And he reminded him of the innocence that these two boys both once held inside of them. He saw the boys unruly hair sprawled across his forehead and took a moment to brush it back. In his sleep, he looked so peaceful... It hurt Steve to think of the chaos he may feel once he wakes. So he backed away to give Peter the space to sleep in the burrito of blankets that he'd made for himself.

Steve leaned against the wall next to Bucky's chair. "I guess we'll see how he feels in the morning."

Bucky just nods before finally standing. His knees crack as a clear sign that they haven't carried Bucky anywhere in a few hours at least. They make their way to the living room where they both plopped down on the couch. It groans under the quick application of their weight and they both stilled to let their weight settle. They were gonna go out to look for new furniture tomorrow. They had a minimalist design plan, but they wanted a little to look like a lot.

They basically wanted to make the apartment look the same, but better, newer, cleaner... With Peter sick though, they didn't wanna go anywhere.

They'd been curled up on the couch for a couple of hours when a cold front moved in, and you could feel it through the whole apartment. Peter came out of the bedroom around that time, wrapped in blankets but still shivering like the devil, watch vibrating on his wrist. They both stood then, encapsulating the smaller boy in their arms. Their bodies produced enough heat now that the cold wouldn't bother them nearly as much as it bothered Peter.

The boy was somehow still tired and falling asleep while standing upright between them, so they took him back to bed. It was difficult for the two bigger men trying to fit in the minuscule bed, but they made it work, and when they were comfortable enough, they managed to fit Peter into the bed as well. The blankets trapped the heat and Peter was no longer shivering, and his watch was no longer vibrating.

 

And Peter was safe, and right now he knew it. Not only was he safe... But he was loved.


	37. thirty-seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ?????????????????????????????????????

Peter looked around the room, dark and unfamiliar. The little girl was there again, her dress covered in blood. She was still as a statue, unmoving, staring at Peter with her bright eyes. She looked familiar, and not just from his dreams.

Once again, he saw Wade over the little girl's shoulder. She looked up at the masked man and smiled, and it looked friendly in a way, but also deadly as all hell. Peter tried to take a step back but when he did he collided with someone, their arms wrapping around him like snakes around prey. He looked up at the girl, then down at his chest. He knew that Wade was holding him still and suddenly he wondered what kind of dream this was going to be.

He felt Wade's hands roaming his body and he felt a tingle in his veins, but he soon became aware that it was a tingle of fear as the little girl approached. Peter was weighed down by fear, and by Wade's arms. He couldn't move anywhere, but he could hear Wade's voice in his ear.

"Don't you worry, Petey... You won't remember this later, we'll make sure." Peter struggled and looked back towards the little girl. She held a knife that was nearly the size of her little forearm. She was approaching, and as much as Peter struggled he couldn't get free from Wade's grasp.

"Wade, please! Let me go, Wade, please!" he shrieked as he kicked his legs out towards the little girl. He felt Wade's grip tighten around him and he screamed, hoping desperately that there was someone around to help him.

The little girl grinned evilly at him as she rose the knife to Peter. She grabbed onto his arm and yanked it towards her with an inhuman strength. He fought her, to no avail and she giggled as she brought the knife to his arm. He screamed again and tried to pull away, but she had him held still as a statue as she brought the knife down and dragged it across his wrist.

All he could do was watch, breathing heavily as the blood seeped from his arm and dripped down to the floor. He screamed. It was all he could do. The sting in his arm intensified as the blood continued to flow. He heard Wade laugh as the little girl smeared the blood up his arm and across his face. Her laughter turned to screaming. Harsh, angry, loud screaming. There were no words, just her high-pitched voice piercing his ears.

In the midst of her screaming, he could hear Wade talking. "Don't you worry Petey, we've got you. That's what family's for."

Peter kept struggling, but they both had him held in place. The little girl kept screaming in his face, and there were tears on her chubby little cheeks as she rose the knife up once more, and Wade began to cackle as the little girl lunged forward and plunged the knife deep into the center of his chest.

 

Peter jolted awake gasping for air and clawing at his chest to try and remove the knife that didn't exist. His chest hurt as though it had existed in real time. He could feel his watch but it wasn't doing anything to ground him, especially not once he inspected his hands and arms and his eyes fell on the scratch across his wrist. It sat there, red and irritated and angry, like the little girl.

He was alone in the tiny metal bed, and he couldn't make himself talk because he couldn't take in enough air to do it even if he wanted to. He climbed out of the bed as quickly as he could manage. His watch was going nuts.

He grabbed onto the doorway to the bedroom and in the kitchen was Nat, making tea. She spotted him and stopped everything to walk over to him. She could see the distress on his face. It didn't take a genius to see that he was scared. Of what she didn't know yet. When she last checked a few minutes ago, Peter had been peacefully asleep, just like he'd been when Steve called this morning, and when she showed up, and when Steve and Bucky took off this morning to hit the shops.

She took his face in her hands and searched his eyes for the words he couldn't speak, but instead, she found an intense fear she'd never seen in him before. "What happened, Peter?"

He tried to suck in the air that he needed to answer her, but he couldn't. He just stood there gaping like a fish out of water. He touched his chest, and Natasha made a mental note to teach him sign-language soon.

He looked down to his arm and she saw the scratch and determined that it was what was bothering him so much, so she grabbed his wrist and covered the scratch with her thumb while caressing his cheek with the other. "You're safe Peter. You know I won't let anything happen to you."

He continued to struggle to breathe but she kept talking to him regardless, and as she did so she slowly started sinking towards the floor and made sure that he came with her until they were kneeling and Peter put his head in her lap. She continued to gently rub the scratch on his wrist as she played with his hair and as he relaxed, his watch vibrations slowed down.

Nat was getting more and more worried about Peter and his well-being with every day that passed by and now, she was extra worried by this, and yesterday's sickness that seemed to vanish into thin air.

Peter let his fingertips brush over an empty space on Nat's wrist, and he made a mental note to buy her a nice bracelet with his allowance money as soon as he got the chance. Christmas was coming, and everyone deserved something nice. And Stark gave him a hell of an allowance, though it went straight into a side account for Peter to use to go to college one day. Steve had started giving him an allowance too, for small things like doing chores and getting good grades at school.

Nat continued to play with Peter's hair and tried to fill the silence by asking him if he still felt sick from yesterday. He said no, and he just felt sick yesterday morning and that was it. That sounded like something to Nat, but this was Peter, so that wasn't really possible... Was it?

 

Once she got Peter calmed down enough that he could breathe properly, she got him to crawl back into bed. As soon as he turned his music on in his headphones, he was out like a light.

Nat sat there with him for a little while before placing a much needed call to a number that she took from Peter's phone. It rang a couple of times, but once the call started, she wasted no time in speaking.

 

"I know who you are, and you know who I am. And I know that you know where I am. I want you to come here, and I need to know what you've done to my son."


	38. thirty-eight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> karma is a bitch and wade is too
> 
> short filler that's kinda late :/

It didn't take the merc long to arrive at the apartment, and when he was greeted by a less-than-friendly looking redhead, he assumed that she had been the woman on the phone and decided that she wasn't the kind of person he wanted to get into a fight with.

And she greeted him with much less than a hello, instead answering the door with a glare and a sharp snap of, "What have you done to my son?"

He said nothing, instead moving past Nat and into the apartment. He looked back and forth before turning towards the bedroom. When he spotted Peter curled up under the blankets, he sat down on the edge of the bed and took Peter's hand into his gloved ones. He watched Peter's face. He knew that Widow chick was right behind him somewhere, as he could feel her eyes judging him. He pretended not to notice and brushed his thumb across Peter's hand before pausing to look at the irritated scratch on his wrist.

For once in his life, it seemed, he was quiet. And then he spoke, in a hushed tone to the redhead, wherever she stood. "Did he do this to himself?"

The silence that stretched on between them held worry, fear, uncertainty. She cleared her throat and he could hear her shifting her weight around. "I don't know. He'd been sleeping and I went to make a drink in the kitchen... He came out, couldn't breathe... He looked afraid of it."

"Why do you think I did something to him?" Wade asked as he brushed Peter's hair out of his face. He could feel Peter's pulse beating steadily at his temple.

He heard the shuffling of feet in the room, and then the Widow was standing over them. "He was sick yesterday. So sick that he came home from school, and I don't think he's ever been that sick in his life, and... And I know he's been with you. I know he leaves campus at lunch and I know that you meet him there, I've seen your texts."

Wade nodded slowly in understanding. "So I'm the obvious suspect... But I would never bring any harm to Peter, I care too much about him."

Widow sounds angry as she speaks. "People like you don't care about people. You care about the job, about the money. You're in it for the glory not for setting the world straight."

Wade looks up at her, his mask concealing the slight shock on his face. He takes a breath and stares into her eyes while she stares back at where she thinks his eyes should be. "Don't you mean, 'people like us'?"

She seems taken aback, and that's good. That's what Wade wants right now. He wants her to feel offended and chided. "For a spy with such extensive training, Madame Widow, your emotions are pretty clear."

"There's no us, I am NOT like you."

He stands, letting Peter's hand slip from his grasp. "Oh, but you are. You're JUST like me. You tell yourself not to get involved with people but you fail, and you play it close to your chest and when something happens to them, because it always does, you blame yourself, because you probably could have saved their lives and saved yourself all the heartache if you'd just listened and stayed away like you're supposed to. But you're selfish, you want to have the things that other people have. You want a regular job, and a family, and a quiet little life with the people that you love but you know that you can't. Your life and your line of work put everyone that you so much as come into contact with in immediate danger, but you lie. You lie to the people around you and to yourself, and you say that they're safe even when you know that you're not." Her chest is rising and falling now, most likely with anger as Wade stands over her spouting all of the truths that she doesn't want to have to listen to.

 

"You lie because you want the life everyone else gets, but you know you can't have it because of who you are. Because you're dangerous. And you can't make the other dangers in the world go away and one day something or someone is gonna take away that life that you've made... And you'll blame yourself when they get kidnapped, shot, raped, or murdered because you know you could have saved them if you'd done the right thing... If you'd thought once about them and not finally getting what you want. You want husbands and a son, and right now you've got it. But they were each other's husbands first. It was them, not you, and Peter? He may call you Mom but that's as close as you'll get to a son. They made sure of that, didn't they?" Tears were springing into her eyes now, and he was loving every second of it.

 

"Besides, Madame Widow, you know what happened to the last family you had." He circled her as he spoke, though she stared straight ahead." Or have you forgotten? Should I remind you about what happened to them? To Nikolai? To Alexi?" He paused right behind her and placed his hands on her flat stomach, whispering directly into her ear. "To your child?"

She whipped around to face him, a tear falling down her cheek. "That's enough... You should leave now, before I hurt you." She said quietly, and he laughed softly.

"You really want to do this in front of Peter?"

She looked over her shoulder and there he was, the boy she called her son, staring at them both, now wide awake.


	39. thirty-nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...wade is, what you might call, a bad guy."

Peter smiles widely when his eyes fall on Wade and his red suit. His voice comes out as a gasp as he quickly rises from the bed, tripping over the blankets as he does so. "Wade!"

Wade steps around Widow to catch Peter before he falls. "Hi there, Petey baby."

Peter's smile is wider than Nat's ever seen it before. Peter's dainty looking hands gripped Wade's biceps as they just stood there together. "What are you doing here, Wade?"

Wade brushes Peter's hair back and pulls his mask up to give him a kiss on the forehead. "I heard you were sick and I came to check up on you."

Nat didn't say anything against this because technically true. Wade was here because Peter had been sick, Nat just didn't know why. Wade paused and sighed. "And there's something that I have to tell you."

Peter paused, smile momentarily fading. "You're not disappearing to Italy for 10 years or anything, are you?"

Wade laughs at the use of their inside joke but then shakes his head with a frown. "No, it's nothing like that, but... I know why you're sick... Peter, we were found out by some really bad guys when we ran away... They took me into the woods and I couldn't get back to you in time to stop them from doing what they did."

Letting go of Wade, Peter took a step back. "What'd they do?" Upon getting no response, he spoke again, this time louder and more urgently. "What'd they do to me, Wade?!"

Wade reached for Peter, who backed away and crawled onto the bed to stay out of the merc's reach. He didn't want to be touched, he wanted answers. He wanted to know what'd happened to him and who'd done it and why. "And I don't want any of your excuses, Wade, I want the truth!"

Wade pulled his mask back down and sighed. "They injected you with a type of serum... That's the blood anomaly that Wizard dude found in you. It only altered you a little, from what I can gather..."

"What does it do? What'd it do to me? Why am I sick?" Peter's hands were starting to shake as his watch began to vibrate. 

"Life... It gave you the ability to make life."

Peter, who seemed more confused by Wade's talk just shook his head. "I could already make life! I'm not asking to hear more of your cryptic bullshit, Wade!"

"It gave you the ability to CARRY life, Peter. A human being, inside of you, almost like the way mothers do." Wade's heart skipped when he saw the way that Peter was looking at him. His eyes were wide and he looked so afraid.

"So, what? Am- Am I pregnant? Is that what you're saying?" Peter felt his heart drop. Kids were always something that he wanted in his life, and this could certainly be considered a gift in a way, but what would it mean for him? That he was pregnant with Wade's child? He and Wade weren't even a couple of any kind, they weren't stable enough for a family yet, even if they were a couple. But to be pregnant so early in his life? To be pregnant at all? Peter knew the impossibility of it all, but if Wade was telling the truth, then he could be pregnant.

But why? If the bad guys did this, why would they do it at all? Why make him able to carry children? Was it a mistake? A trial serum? Or did the bad guys have a bigger plan in mind for them? Did the universe?

This time it was Nat who spoke, "There's only one way to know for sure..."

Peter watched her as she walked into the bathroom and came back out. She handed him a plastic package with a soft sigh. "It should work... The instructions are on the sink."

Peter understood what it was and nodded slowly, glancing to Wade. Wade pulled his mask up to give him a soft smile and with that, Peter went into the bathroom. Wade turned to Nat, who stared ahead while she picked at her nails.

"Why do you keep those?" He asked her gently.

She took a shaking breath. Wade seemed to know everything there was to know, so she saw no reason to try and lie to him. "In the Red Room, where I was trained they have this... Ceremony when you pass. It's not sterilization, it's a serum. It did to me what the other serums did to Steve and James. Mine just worked differently on me... Made it impossible to me for have kids... I can um... I can get pregnant, just not carry to term with them. My body won't let me... I keep those to prepare myself for the hurt. To prepare Steve and James too."

She let out another shuddering breath and wiped away a tear before it got the chance to escape her eye. Wade didn't say anything, just put a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at him.

"If he really is carrying a child..." She started. He held a hand up to stop her from speaking.

"I'm not going to leave him. I know what it's like to lose a child, and I wouldn't leave another one. Or Peter."

She turned her full body towards him. "You had better mean that, or so help me, God, I WILL find you and I WILL make you regret it."

He lets out a chuckle and is about to speak again when he hears a soft wailing from the bathroom. It's quite obvious that Peter's trying to conceal it, but the sound makes Wade's heart climb into his throat and then drop into his stomach. It was all he needed to hear to know the truth.

But he knocked on the door anyway, and when Peter opened the door, tears on his cheeks, Wade was going to console him. Tell him that everything would be okay and that their child would be alright.

But then Peter hugged him, clung onto him like a small child to his mother's leg. And Wade took the test from Peter's hand, and suddenly the air made its way back into his lungs.

And when he glanced over his shoulder to Widow, he shook his head. And she understood.


	40. forty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> peter doesn't quite know how to deal
> 
> trying to get this filler out before I start my mocksat in the morning

Peter decided that he was going to make himself go back to school the day after his... pregnancy scare? The whole ordeal is still taking some time to wrap his head around. He still doesn't quite get it, but Wade seems to know, and Nat seemed to believe him.

Peter thinks that was the scariest part, seeing Nat's worry as she listened to what Wade said. She probably didn't believe it all 100%, like, she was a spy, she knew a lot of stories were fake. It was just her job to find out which ones, and if this one was fake, she didn't know yet. And if Nat didn't know, then nobody knew.

Peter used the schoolwork to distract himself, but it didn't seem to be working. He found himself absentmindedly touching his stomach upwards of 10 times. Was he really that devastated over the fact that he WASN'T pregnant with a murderer's child? That should be a good thing, shouldn't it? Shouldn't he be relieved? Why was he putting this much thought into it?

He did know one thing, and that was from now on, he and Wade were going to use protection. Religiously.

He could hear Ned and MJ both talking to him, but he wasn't sure where from. Where were they? Was he with them? He didn't know, he wasn't that well tuned in to the world around him right now and it worried him because the less time he spent focused on his lessons, the more time he was spending on thinking about the fact that he and Wade could've had a child together.

A CHILD....... WHAT THE FUCK.

That's not normal. That's just not fuckin' normal. Oh God, and what if Nat tells Tony? Or Bucky or- fuck, what if she tells Steve? Oh, God, Steve would kill him if he knew. Peter didn't think he was ready to die right now... That could change at any moment, but right this second he wasn't ready. He wanted to live.

He absentmindedly thought of the scratch on his wrist and when he looked down at it, he allowed his eyes to focus in on the silvery-white scars he had there for the first time in a year. He hoped to God that nobody else would ever notice. He wore long sleeves, his jacket, his watch. And when he didn't he hoped to God that nobody paid close enough attention to see.

He shouldn't be focusing on this, he knows.

When Wade texted him, he ignored it, opting to not even open the message at all. He simply swiped it off of the screen and was done with it for then. Wade texted several more times, but each time Peter ignored it. He needed time to think. He needed space, and clearly, Wade wasn't too concerned with giving it to him.

Eventually, he just turned his phone off, knowing that anyone else would just contact him through his watch, but even that was starting to get annoying. He was ready to go find somewhere quiet that he could be left alone for a while. Maybe he could get Flash to stick him into a locker and he can just stay there for the rest of the day.

But that might prove to be a problem considering that small spaces were now one of Peter's least favorite things on the planet. It was actually even worse than the old fear that he used to have of clowns.

His watch started to vibrate, but he ignored it too, not even bothering to look and find out why. The steady vibration was one that he knew. He could feel his heartbeat speed up, but he focused on taking a couple of deep breaths to try and relax. He didn't even know what he was getting so worked up about.

 

Back at the apartment, Bucky was an inconsolable wreck, and Steve couldn't quite calm him down. Every time that he got close, Bucky blew up again, yelling about how badly he deserved to be in cryo or even dead for the things that he did.

He was shaking and every time Steve got too close, he was physically pushed away. And when Steve saw the calendar he realized why Bucky was having this outburst. He remembered this date from Bucky's S.H.I.E.L.D. file and from his Hydra file... Today was December 16th. 27 years ago today, The Winter Soldier killed Howard and Maria Stark.

And Bucky was mentally paying the price for it every day. Today was just worse than the others. Because he knew what he'd done.

He'd murdered a man they both once knew. And his wife. And left their child, the man they both once felt for, orphaned.

And he didn't just murder them. He beat Howard Stark's face in with his metal fist and choked the innocent Maria to death. And the worst part is that he knew who they were. He recognized their faces while the Soldier was walking up to their car.

He desperately tried to make it stop, but with the Soldier in charge, there was nothing he could do and he knew it. All he could do was watch and scream and cry from inside his own mind.

Some nights, that's the kill that wakes him. Sends him shooting up from his bed drenched in sweat and screaming. Sometimes it was the kill that made him go statue still at random during the day. Sometimes it's the kill that brings a tear to his eye once he's finally alone. And sometimes it was the kill that made him lash out at others to keep them away.

After all, he was a murderer, and who could love a murderer?

 

Steve hated hearing Bucky say such things about himself, but he couldn't get close enough to Bucky to hold him. He was manic, metal hand tightly gripping his knife. Steve knew Bucky wouldn't intentionally hurt him, but when he got like this there was no telling what might accidentally happen.

All Nat could do was watch from her place behind Steve and she decided that today was not the day to tell them what happened with Peter yesterday. She decided it would be good to wait and just spend some one on one time with Peter herself. She thought about taking him to the park later. She was sure he'd like to sit out in the sun and watch the birds.

Peter liked being out because he could be in his own bubble but still be out somewhere. And despite the noise of the city, Peter knew how to make it quiet.

Nat considered texting Wade to press for details about what happened to Peter, but for right now she needed to focus on Steve and James. Although Peter was her boy, these were her men, and they needed her too.

She took a half-step forward and paused, thinking about what Wade said yesterday, about how she might not belong here. She took a full step backward. Then another.

She could barely hear Steve's soothing voice over James' sobs, but after a while, even those quieted down until the apartment was nearly silent once more. She knew that James might blow up several more times today, and when he did she'd be there for him.

She touched her stomach and thought back to her unborn child for the first time in many many years, and for the first time since then, she let herself shed a tear. Not just for herself...

 

But for them all.


	41. forty-one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy 2k19 everybody, I know it's been a while, but I'm gonna try and roll out a couple of chapters here quick for you.
> 
> also, since I skipped Halloween and Thanksgiving but still made the anniversary of the Starks, I have a surprise for you
> 
> A Christmas Special... and smut.
> 
> (Christmas Special part 1)

The last couple of weeks have been quiet, at both the apartment and the base. Bucky'd been walking around like a ghost in his own home. A shadow stuck in the old routine of his old life. Every morning he woke up and padded to the kitchen, had a cup of too-bitter coffee and a half-stale biscuit and begin his 85-year-old work out routine.

Today though was very, very different. Last night, Bucky never went to bed at all. He was up all night like he'd been all week.

Last night, though, he spent all of his time in the kitchen preparing a large breakfast, the room around him lit only by the colorful decorative lights that Steve insisted on stringing up in the Holiday Spirit. Natasha insisted on the small table-top tree, so they could at least say that they had one. Covering the floor around the tree was a stack of presents as tall as Bucky's hip. The bottom of the tree was hidden beneath the sparkling wrapping paper and twine.

The ornaments were a little old, leftover in a box of memories nobody'd opened in years. Old knickknacks covered in dust and sadness, forgotten in the ripple of time just like they once were. The box that Natalia found them in was old, bent in all of the wrong places and covered in a layer of dust so thick that the writing on the outside almost wasn't even legible anymore. The old penned cursive was faded, but Bucky knew Mrs. Rogers' handwriting anywhere.

Bucky turned his attention to the old standing radio in the corner. It was one of their nicer things, that radio was. It cost Bucky almost three months' worth of working the extra shifts down at the docks. He still remembers the first time he and Steve laid their eyes on it as they walked down the street, casually window shopping for things they knew they would never afford. He remembers how Steve's eyes lit up upon seeing the polished wood frame and the built-in turntable in the top.

He remembers spinning the lovely story to Steve about how he'd buy it for them and they'd spend their late nights dancing together in their tiny living room space to the sound of the old music. He remembers the day it became more than a story and Steve came home to the radio standing tall and proud and clean, wrapped with a single twine ribbon around the front of it, and the smile on Bucky's face. He remembers the first time they danced to the music together, awkwardly swaying together in the tight space they'd cleared to do so.

And now, it stands proudly once more, looking as good as new. And it basically was. Bucky's been having Stark repair it every day while Steve's been at work, and now that it's Christmas, he can unveil it to Steve as a working part of their past.

Bucky looked towards the bedroom when he saw Steve shuffling out of it with a tired smile on his face. He offered Steve a cup of coffee the way that he liked it and Steve thanked him with a kiss on the cheek before leaning against the slick new counter. Steve was in love with the new repairs and remodels they were making, and when they'd finally finished the kitchen, you'd think Steve had won the lottery with the way his eyes lit up over it.

Bucky said nothing as he and Steve sipped their drinks, only speaking once their cups were empty. He pointed to the ceiling above them and smirked, "Mistletoe."

Steve looked up with a smile and Bucky glanced at Natalia where she stood in the doorway, and Steve looked at her too before laughing softly. "Do the two of you have some plan for this seemingly strategically placed mistletoe?"

Nat laughed softly as she strode over in her silk slip. "Maybe." She leaned up and started kissing along Steve's jaw as she slipped down onto her knees between him and the counter.

Steve's cheeks turned dark red as Nat pulled his Christmas themed pajama pants down to his knees and started kissing his bare hips. Steve stuttered as Bucky grabbed Nat's hair with one hand and pulled her head closer to his crotch. Her lips glided along his dick and he gripped the countertop behind her head. Steve's been too involved with work and Christmas to have any time to enjoy himself, and what better time for an intervention than 4:30 on Christmas morning?

Steve leaned forward slightly as Nat took his length into her mouth. Bucky slid his metal fingers into Nat's fiery red hair and slid his other hand up Steve's chest, effectively holding the three of them together. Nat reached behind Steve and tugged Bucky's sweats down just enough to expose him as well. Steve's moan of ecstasy when Bucky pushed into him effectively managed to turn them all on even farther.

Bucky let out a groan against the skin of Steve's neck as Nat dug her nails into his thigh. Steve's whining was like music to Bucky's ears as he rolled his hips. Without even looking Bucky could pinpoint the moment that Nat started touching herself just so she could get a little something, and he decided that wouldn't do. Bucky was not about to let the only lady do all the work and not get anything out of it, so he used his grip on her hair to pull her to her feet.

"Наклоняться." He told her, and she did. She hiked up her slip and bent at the hips over the counter in front of Steve, who wasted no time in grabbing onto her thighs and gently guiding his way inside of her. The quiet little gasp she let out was enough for them both to hear. With everyone busy with the move and the remodeling on top of their other jobs and caring for Peter, the three of them hadn't fucked like this in far too long.

The carnal thrusting of their hips was only the beginning. Nat was writhing on the counter in complete bliss as Steve pressed against her g-spot with every knock of his hips into hers. Steve himself was moaning like a whore as Bucky plowed into his prostate. Bucky absolutely loved having the three of them together like this and, well, what better way to christen the new kitchen than this?

Nat's back arched and Bucky knew that this would be it for her, and it was almost it for him and Steve too. Steve grabbed Nat by the hair and pulled, and Bucky grabbed Steve by the throat. Both of their secret little turn-ons being used against them in the final moments of their actions in order to tip them over the line and off into the deep end. And it worked; in a moment all three of them were crying out to one another as they came together.

 

After the final moments of bliss had passed and everyone caught their breaths, they fixed their clothing and shared kisses and finished their coffee. Steve took to cleaning up any mess in the area while they waited for Tony to arrive with Peter and Bruce. Having Bruce over took some deliberation on all parts, but eventually, they decided, what the hell. Because Bruce was their friend, and despite everything, they still loved Tony and wanted him to be happy, even if it wasn't with them.

 

Bucky was still indifferent to Stark, and Tony felt the same. After all, it'd been two weeks and there were still metal plate shaped bruises around his neck that just didn't want to go away. Somewhere inside Bucky felt sorry, though he wouldn't say it aloud. Not yet. He wanted Tony to earn the apology. He wasn't just going to hand it over because it's what Steve wanted.

 

"So, have you thought about what you're going to say to Tony?" Steve asked as he made another cup of coffee.

Bucky, with a mouth full of pancake, said, "Not a damn thing."

Steve paused and looked up at the idiotic love of his life and leaned against the counter. "It's Christmas."

Nat smirked a little, already guessing Bucky's reply. Bucky swallowed and delivered, "I'm Jewish."


	42. forty-two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's Christmas without a little angst?
> 
> (Christmas Special part 2)

There was a knock on the door at 7:15 exactly and when Nat opened the door she saw Peter there, wrapped up in his blanket and smiling widely. Behind him, Bruce and Tony were holding bags with other presents. Nat greeted all three of them with kisses on the cheeks as they made their way inside one at a time.

Peter bounced into the kitchen and hugged Bucky like he hadn't seen him in forever. In reality, it'd only been a couple of days since Peter was here last. Bucky hugged him and even kissed him on the head.

Nat watched on. Bucky and Peter held each other so highly. They were talking quietly, each sporting huge smiles. Peter was going on about how excited he was for Bucky to open the gift he got him. Bucky felt the same, telling Peter that if he didn't like it then he could always pick something else, but Peter insisted that he'd love it no matter what it was.

Steve greeted Tony and Bruce with hot cups of coffee while they put their gifts with the others. Tony laughed as he put a sparkling Santa's hat on Steve's head and Steve almost wanted to kiss him. Nat could see it in his eyes how badly he wanted to do it, but he wasn't about to come between him and Bruce. They seemed to have something really good going for them, and as long as Tony was happy then it was enough for Steve.

While everyone sat down to breakfast, Nat could tell that something was a little but off with Peter. When nobody was looking, he just looked sad, lonely. She could see him touching his stomach every once in a while, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what had him down. It was Wade. The fact that he wasn't present had her little spider upset, and as soon as she figured it out, she started wondering what there was for her to do about it.

Everything she could think of seemed to end in some kind of disaster. So for now, she just watched as Peter sipped on his chocolate milk and joked with Bruce about Radiophysics. Tony listened on in silence, leaning into Bruce's side as he ate. Nat thought it was cute how they cuddled up to one another. They were still in that cute, nauseating honeymoon phase, and she really hoped that for their sake it never goes away.

She was very sincerely hoping that this relationship would last, for both of their sakes. Because if they were happy it was all that mattered, right? The problem with the group's resolution was this: Steve still felt for Tony. Anyone in the room could see it. The way Steve let his eyes linger, the way he smiled when he caught Tony's eye. It was sad.

Peter's phone rang and he jumped up, excusing himself to go answer it.

 

On the porch, bundled up in what he might call the softest blanket in the world, Peter answered his phone as he leaned on the railing. "Good morning, Wade."

On the other end, he heard a soft chuckle, and it was easy to imagine Wade smiling. "Merry Christmas, Petey... I'm sorry I can't be there with you."

Peter looked down and messed with a fray on his blanket. He felt sad, lonely. He felt a tug on his heart as he longed to be with Wade. He longed to be held close, to feel safe and loved. Sure he felt those things inside with his family, but it was different with Wade.

Wade, who Peter could see hiding very obviously behind a bin across the street, could hear the pain in Peter's voice as he spoke, "I wish you could be here... But they'd kill me... And I would say you, but they can't kill you, can they?"

Wade took a breath. "No, Petey, they can't. But killing you would do the job."

Peter let out a laugh, but they both knew it was fake. They both knew that Peter didn't have it in him for laughter right now. Neither of them did, to tell the truth. All they wanted was to be together, but it would seem that the world wasn't ready for that just yet.

"If you're not busy tomorrow, we can have our own Christmas at my place, yea?"

Even from up on the 5th floor, Peter could see Wade exhale a big cloud of smoke from his cigarette as he laughed and waited for Peter's reply. Peter just nodded, because he knew that Wade could see him. "Yeah, that sounds good... I can't wait for you to see what I-"

Peter jumped as the door opened behind him. He turned and hid his phone behind his back and Wade dove behind the dumpster as Steve walked out of the apartment and leaned on the railing to look at the sky. He didn't say anything for a long minute, choosing instead to let Peter worry about being in trouble for a long moment.

After a long minute, Steve just smiled over at Peter. "You should ask him over for Christmas."

Peter beamed like a goddamn lighthouse. "Really?!"

Steve laughed and stood up straighter. "I can't promise it'll go over the best with Tony, but I asked him to be civil... Everyone inside has someone, I figure it's only fair for you to have your someone too."

Down in the street, Wade stepped out from behind the dumpster and waved his arms in the air as he yelled, "I tried to kill all of you!"

Steve stared down at the man, scarred beyond all repair and yelled back, "Do it again, and I'll kill you! Merry Christmas!"

Steve turned and walked back inside without another word and Peter and Wade stood staring at one another in disbelief. Peter put the phone back up to his ear and heard Wade say that he needed to go and pick up the gifts he bought and that he'd be back over soon. Peter laughed and asked him to wear something festive, but also something appropriate.

Wade told him he couldn't promise that he could do both and hung up with a laugh before running off... Maybe this would be a good day after all... If Wade kept himself in check.


	43. forty-three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's awkward, but it's cute.
> 
> (Christmas Special part 3)

Peter was nervously flittering around in the apartment awaiting Wade's arrival. Nat thought it was cute how nervous he looked. He brushed his hair maybe five times, and he brushed his teeth twice already. He asked Nat if he should get dressed and she declined, telling him it was outrageous to wear regular clothes on Christmas morning. He laughed and seemed to relax a little, but then he looked at where Steve and Bucky and Bruce and Tony were all standing together.

It was nice to see them all together, all getting along despite everything. But it wasn't hard to see the way that Steve looked at the others. He looked almost jealous of the way that Tony and Bruce were cuddled up to one another, all happy and shit, drinking hot chocolates with smiles on their faces. But when Steve caught their eyes, he smiled. Because he was happy for them, truly, no matter how badly it hurt.

And on the topic of Wade coming, Tony was the only one phased. Which, was weird. Even after Wade tried to kill them, they seemed so content when he was around. Almost like he wasn't any kind of problem, to begin with. Almost like the fight never happened... But it did, didn't it? Their wounds, those were real, right? There's no way all of them would fake something like that... Right?

Peter shook his head and decided that Christmas was no time for conspiracy theories like that. It was a time to forget everything and just run with this blessing they'd given him because for some reason, spending Christmas with Wade kinda felt like one.

He bounded downstairs to his still unfinished room and grabbed the two big garden trash bags full of Christmas gifts. It was easy to get money for all of these gifts. He'd saved his allowance up for months, and when he asked Tony for "a little spending money" Tony up and gave him $500 like it was pocket change. He was told to either use it all or keep the change, and he used all but maybe $85 and he planned to put it all towards lunch money.

He even bought Aunt May something, despite not having seen or heard from her in weeks... Either she was horribly injured somewhere, or just didn't want anything to do with Peter right now. He figured it was probably the latter and decided that if she didn't want him, then he wouldn't put in the time to think about her. Yea, he bought her the gift, but whether she'd ever get it or not was up to her now.

He carried his somewhat heavy trash bags back up to the apartment and giggled as Natasha came to help him unload the gifts by the tree.

"I think next year we'll get a bigger tree. This little one's getting lost in all these gifts." She smiles, and he agrees. The only part of the poor little tree still visible is the little star on the very top.

"Maybe we can get one of those four-foot ones, so it's still small but not..."

"Miniscule?" Nat finishes, and Peter agrees again. Nat laughs and kisses Peter on the cheek before ruffling his hair.

Peter rushes to brush his hair again. He hears footsteps and sees Bucky reflected in the small, busted bathroom mirror. His arms are crossed, loosely, unthreatening. He smiles softly.

"Normally I wouldn't condone this... But if anything escalates today, I'll take care of it for you. This is your first Christmas with us, and I don't want it to be the last." Bucky stepped into the small room and Peter hugged him. He was so grateful for Bucky as a parental figure, not just because of the way Bucky treated him, but because Bucky'd been treated poorly and he knew how to react to some things better than say, Steve.

Steve went into the ice, sure. Steve also got the serum, sure. But Steve chose to have his. Bucky's was tortured into him. Forced into his veins and into his mind. He never got a choice, never had a say. And he has to live with that every day of his life. The pain that his arm regularly causes him, the memories of what he'd done. There was never an escape. Never would he have a chance to escape that torment inside of him.

He could just put it on the back burner for a while like he'd managed to do today. Being surrounded by the people that love him makes it a little bit easier to cope. To know that these people knew what he'd done and still loved him for everything he was and all that he was worth meant more to him than he thinks anyone could imagine. It made him feel... Human, knowing that these people saw him for more than what he was and what he could do.

"Come on, your dads are getting antsy." He laughed as he walked Peter back out of the bathroom. There was no way that Bucky missed the blanket that Peter wore, it made him smile seeing that Peter appreciated it.

When they walked back into the kitchen, Nat was in the middle of snapping a photo of Tony and Bruce kissing under the mistletoe, and Steve was in the background making a stupid face that Nat was laughing at the whole time.

Everyone went a little still when there was a knock on the door. Bucky motioned for Peter to stay put before going to open it. Bucky was met with the red mask, and also an old tacky Christmas sweater and he laughed before ushering Wade inside.

Wade held a legitimate looking Santa sack full of stuff. He sat it down by the other presents before walking over and giving Peter a tight hug. Peter buried his face into Wade's shoulder, and his sweater smelled like chocolate, gunpowder and cigarette smoke. Somehow it was soothing. He heard Nat's camera click from somewhere in the room but doubted she was focused on them in the slightest. When Peter pulled out of the hug, Nat put her hand on Wade's shoulder and gently urged him to go introduce himself in some kind of non-threatening manner.

Wade cracked off some joke about not making any promises of being non-threatening before going towards where Steve and Bruce stood with Tony. Peter watched on anxiously before remembering something he forgot. He dug around a little around the presents before bounding up to Bucky with a wide smile and fastening a Santa hat onto his head. Bucky laughed a little and shook his head before taking the hat off and putting it on top of Wade's mask.

"Alright boys, let's get this show on the road, we've got a lot of stuff here." Nat smiled as she sat on the floor by the bedroom door. Steve agreed and sat by the pile of boxes, the self-designated Santa Claus for the evening.

Peter sat down on the floor at the back of the group. He didn't expect a whole lot, and that was okay. He had people who loved him and that was enough... Speaking of. Wade plopped down right beside Peter and they automatically leaned together until they were pressed side to side. Peter put his head on Wade's shoulder as Steve handed out the first round of presents. 

By the third round of presents, Peter already had a cute little pile beside of him. A handful of really good thermal socks, web fluid ingredients, brand new computer upgrade parts, and a belt from Natasha, because she keeps insisting that he needed one. Wade asked Steve to get out the top box in his bag for Peter, and Steve carefully passed the box over.

Peter furrowed his brows at the box before tearing it open. Under the paper was a sleek black box. He glanced up at Wade who urged him to open it. Inside was a brand new pair of Hender Scheme NMD R1 Adidas and Peter had never felt more in love in his life. He took one of the black shoes out of the box and wanted to cry because these were the exact shoes that he wanted- and they retailed for over a grand. The fact that Wade spent this on him when they'd only known one another for so long meant a fuck-ton.

He brushed his thumb over the red and blue accents by the sole of the shoe before lunging up and hugging Wade tightly. Wade laughed before kissing Peter's head through his mask and rubbing his back. Peter made it a point to put the shoe back into the box the same as he found it. After Peter composed himself, Steve handed out the next round of gifts.

Nat actually started to cry when she opened one of the gifts from Peter, and Steve teared up when he opened one from Bucky. Tony and Bruce loved the gifts they got for one another and laughed because of how similar their gifts were.

Peter sat still as a statue when Bucky got his hands on a gift from Peter. He opened it slowly, carefully. He could hear whatever it was rattling a little, and he hoped to God that he hadn't broken whatever it was. Once he pulled the box open though, he stilled. Inside was a toolset, but not like a regular toolset, it was a custom made carbon fiber toolset that Peter special ordered. Bucky looked up and the pair made eye contact. Peter shifted where he sat.

"It's for your arm... I thought you might like having the power to be able to fix it yourself sometimes..." Peter said sheepishly.

Steve smiled over at Bucky because even he'd heard Bucky ranting about how useless he felt that he didn't know how to fix even the simplest things about his arm. Peter thought he recalled something about that conversation, and right now with the way Bucky was staring at him he really hoped that he was right about this gift and not way out of line.

Peter saw that Bucky was tearing up bit he felt a little terrified by that fact... Until Bucky stood and pulled Peter to his feet and enveloped the small boy in a tight hug.

"Thank you."


	44. forty-four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so damn late, my mother and younger sister had their birthdays and we've been celebrating.
> 
> thoughts on more christmas smut for part 5?
> 
> (Christmas Special part 4)

Once Bucky had collected himself, he sat back down, toolbox in his arms as he watched Steve pass out more gifts. Bucky was very content to watch rather than participate. He didn't even mind Peter and Wade cuddling up to one another like they were... As long as they were both here, he could keep an eye on them and make sure they stayed out of trouble, especially after what Natalia told him...

This wasn't the place to think or speak of that though, because this was Christmas, which Peter clearly enjoyed. He looked so pleased and excited even when he wasn't opening gifts. He looked just as happy watching others open gifts or even looking at Christmas lights on the tree. Peter truly was just a happy soul, absolutely just so happy to be around. Bucky was happy having him around in general.

Bucky truly was so in love with this boy, not in the way that he was in love with Steve, but in the way that a mother loves their child. Seeing this happy, healthy, loving young boy in his home, in his care... It seemed to fill a void inside of him that he didn't even know he'd had before he met the boy. The first time Tony let Peter into his life was a blessing in disguise.

Natalia touched his leg and snapped him back to attention. She smiled before sliding a large box in front of him. "Be careful with this one, James. It requires a lot of care."

He nodded and began to open it, not thinking much of it. The box shook underneath his palms and for a moment he worried he was about to be blown up or just pranked in general. But when he pulled one of the flaps up, the whole box burst open, and inside of it was a grey Pitbull puppy with the most gorgeous blue eyes. It couldn't have been more than 8 weeks old, and it wasn't until he lifted the puppy out of the box did he really burst into tears.

The small puppy looked up at him with the utmost love in its eyes, and he smiled through his tears... This tiny thing was missing one of its front legs, and he was quick to understand. He knew that the others were looking for some kind of way to make him feel better about his arm, especially on the days where he just wished he could take it off and set it somewhere so he didn't have to be stuck with it. Technically, it was a prosthetic, and missing his arm was considered a disability... And even after all of this time, he'd never really come to terms with it, though how could he? He was never given the chance.

The Soldier knew that the arm was just a part of who he was, nothing more than another limb or a simple attachment, a weapon. It didn't make him weak, it made him strong, intimidating... It made him the guy people wanted to get out of the way from. It erased everything that Bucky himself ever was, kind, human... The Solider thought it completed him.

So when he saw this little puppy with the same disability as him, yes, he cried. Shamelessly cried onto the dog's fur. The tears dialed up to an 11 once he looked at the collar on the small dog. Under the small bow read a proposal he wasn't expecting at all. When he looked up to Steve, he saw him down on one knee and sporting a smug smile.

He looked to Natalia who was smiling widely, then back to Steve who was now holding a small box and without even seeing the ring inside, Bucky threw himself at Steve sputtering 'yes's' through his tears.

Wade and Peter looked at one another in shock, as this was absolutely a surprise to even Peter. Everyone but Nat looked surprised, well, everyone but Nat and Tony it seemed because Tony just looked... Well, less surprised but more shocked? There was an emotion in his eyes that Peter couldn't quite name, but it didn't exactly scream 'happy'.

Steve peppered Bucky's face in kisses and the small puppy jumped on them, making the pair laugh. Steve finally opened the box and paused. "It's specially made for your hand..."

Traditionally rings went on the left hand, but well, it was obvious why that seemed like less of a possibility for Bucky. But then Steve made a point to say that Bruce helped him make a ring that wouldn't be damaged by the Vibranium of Bucky's hand, and would also fit incredibly well. Tony, well, he looked at Bruce with wide eyes that seemed to say something along the lines of 'why didn't you tell me' but it was obvious he didn't want to make a scene, not in front of Peter.

Wade gave Peter a little nudge to distract him from Stark and Peter's attention went straight back to Bucky and the Puppy, who seemed totally happy standing on her three legs and wagging her little tail.

"Mr. Bucky, what are you going to call her?" He asked softly.

And Bucky looked lovingly down at the little dog before smiling. "Rebecca," he declared with a tone in his voice. Steve kissed his head, and Peter's heart hurt for Bucky. Rebecca was a name he remembered, not just from any files, but from the museum.

And as Bucky looked down at the puppy who bared his younger sister's name, he wanted to cry again, but this was Christmas, and Christmas was no place for tears. Not now anyway, hell, he and Steve just got engaged for fuck's sake, this was no time to be sad.

Natalia kissed both of their heads and smiled before picking up some of the trash. Peter crawled to the tree to dig out a little box with her name on it for her. She accepted it, taking it very carefully to make sure whatever it was didn't get broken between now and when she opened the box.

Inside was a beautiful silver bracelet, adorned with a spider made of onyx and diamonds. She stared at it in awe before her eyes fell onto a smaller spider next to the big one and she laughed softly before pulling Peter into a tight hug. "Thank you, little one."

He smiles widely before sitting next to Wade again. The whole morning goes like this, and the moment the last presents are finished with, Tony stands and claps his hands together, announcing that there's one last gift, and the adults all agree. Peter is told to grab all of his gifts and he does, with the help of Wade, Nat, and Steve. Everyone follows Tony downstairs through the cold air.

Down on the third floor, Tony walks up to one of the doors and unlocks it before pausing. "Pete, I know you've been sleeping in a room up on four on the days you're not staying inside of their apartment with them, and I also know that room has only been fixed in the most basic of ways, so with their help, we put this together for you."

Peter looked to the door as Tony pushed it open and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He walked inside and was met with warm air and a whole new apartment that he could call his own. The space was open but closed off enough for his privacy. The sleek furniture and wood flooring appealed to all of his aesthetics, and there were empty pots for him to grow plants in if he wanted. He could see the light bar from the compound had been installed around the whole apartment, and he could see the huge computer taking up the whole desk across the apartment.

Peter sat down the gifts he was carrying and looked around in awe, then laughed when he laid his eyes on the large bed. He remembered telling Tony once that he'd never slept in a bed any bigger than a twin, not until he slept in Steve and Bucky's bed, and that was only a couple of weeks ago. Wade, Nat and Steve sit down the presents they were carrying for Peter down inside of his room for him, and after a minute of listening to Tony talk to Peter, everyone left him to put his things away, with the exception of Wade, who let out a breath and finally took his mask of the moment the door closed.

"Damn, it gets hot in there sometimes." He laughed before tossing the mask onto the bed and pulling Peter close to him.

"You know, I feel a little spoiled, Wade. You spent a lot of money on me."

Wade shook his head and laughed a little as he grabbed Peter's butt. "Nothing is too good for you, Petey baby."

Peter blushed as he slid his hands up Wade's chest before leaning up to kiss him. Wade leaned back from the kiss, playfully protesting that there couldn't be kisses on Christmas without mistletoe... Then he revealed that he'd stolen the mistletoe from upstairs and Peter laughed and asked where it should be hung.

As a joke, Wade said over the bed, and Peter let him hang it there. Wade laid down and beckoned Peter closer. Peter did him one better and crawled onto his lap to finally kiss him properly, hands cupping Wade's cheeks.

Wade went for different hand placement and put his hands on Peter's butt once more.


	45. forty-five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Special Spideypool Smut and Tony Stark needs Space
> 
> (Christmas Special part 5)

Peter felt at home in Wade's arms. And Wade, well, despite the sins that were about to ensue, felt blessed. He had this young boy in his arms and the boy wasn't even fazed by his humor or his skin.

So unfazed that as of right now as they were making out, Peter was grinding his thin little hips down against Wade's. Wade had an arm wrapped around Peter, and the other hand on the boy's ass, rubbing and squeezing it as he pleased. Wade would be lying if he said the sounds Peter were making didn't make him want to have Peter right here on his new bed because they did. Peter himself didn't seem to opposed based on the way he was trying to get Wade out of his sweater.

Wade sat up, taking Peter with him before obliging to Peter's wishes and taking his red sweater off. Peter could see the remnants of what once could have been considered a tattoo of sorts, but now the skin was nothing more than burns and dark discoloration. Peter figured it had to have been from a time before Wade's mutation because Wade's healing factor probably wouldn't allow him to have tattoos now.

Absently Peter wondered if he'd be able to get tattoos with his healing powers, but as Wade started trying to get Peter out of his sweater, he decided that he didn't care about that right now. All he cared about in this second was having sex with Wade, and maybe that was bad, but if being good meant not feeling good then Peter would rather be bad.

Wade could feel Peter's arousal through his thin sweatpants and decided to take advantage of it by flipping them over and pinning Peter to the bed. He kissed down Peter's chest, slowly, teasingly. Peter wasn't in the mood to be teased like this, and he flipped Wade back over. Wade's eyes were wide and full of lust as Peter started working on getting wade out of his jeans.

Wade, who was not opposed to this side of Peter taking control, lifted his hips so Peter could pull his jeans off. Though any one of Peter's 'parents' could walk in at any moment, Wade knew that Peter absolutely loved the risk of being caught. If any of them thought something was gonna happen, they didn't seem too concerned. Wade hooked his fingers in the waistband of Peter's sweats and the two of them made quick work of getting them off.

Peter then pounced on Wade once more, kissing him hungrily as Wade wrapped both arms around Peter to trap the younger boy against his chest. He dug his nails into Peter's back as the boy tried desperately grinding against him.

"Wade, please... I miss you." He begged quietly into the merc's ear.

"I know baby, I miss you too, but we gotta be safe now, don't we?"

Peter's mind blanked for a moment at what the hell Wade was talking about, but then he remembered and nodded. Wade said that he thought that's what Peter would say and directed the boy to fish the protection out from inside the pocket of his jeans. Soon as he let the boy go, he bounded over to the jeans and searched through Wade's pockets, only returning to the bed when he found what he wanted.

Wade was admiring the boy's body and internally questioning the legality of this. Peter, being 16 now, was close to the legal age here, but with the boy crawling onto the bed, Wade decided that he'd think about that later when Peter wasn't impatiently begging in the way that he was. Peter knew enough from health class to be able to put the condom on for Wade, his thin fingers making quick work of it.

Wade pulled Peter towards him until Peter was straddling him. Peter dug his nails into Wade's chest as he worked himself down on Wade's length. Wade held onto Peter's hips before wrapping his arms around his back and holding the boy down to his chest. Peter gripped onto Wade's shoulders as Wade took control of the situation.

Wade loved the noises that Peter was making, even though he was barely doing anything. He was moving his hips rather slowly, teasing the boy a little for the time being. Peter was begging into Wade's ear for him to please stop teasing him. Wade obliged and sped up his hips, easily pulling rougher moans from Peter's lips.

Wade glanced to the mistletoe above them and had to stifle a laugh at the irony.

 

Meanwhile, upstairs, Tony Stark seemed to be losing his mind for the 100th time as he paced the 5th floor balcony. A worried Bruce watched on as Tony procrastinated going back into the apartment.

"Tony..." Bruce started gently, trying to gauge Tony's emotional state.

"No!" Tony suddenly stopped pacing and turned on his heel to face his new beau. "Don't you even start. You knew that Steve was gonna propose and you didn't tell me?"

"Tony, you left them, I didn't think it was going to be a big deal if he proposed or not.." Bruce was starting to feel like maybe Tony didn't feel the way he said he felt about him. He thought that maybe Tony was using him as some desperate ploy for Steve's attention, and maybe he was, but he would never tell Bruce either way.

Bruce took a step back as Tony went on.

"I can't believe you wouldn't tell me about something like that if you knew! I can't believe you'd keep something like that from me, especially if you knew how I felt!"

"That's just the thing, Tony," Bruce said in his regular quiet tone. "I have no idea how you feel. Ever. You don't talk about your feelings, you don't know how to express yourself. You don't talk enough for me to even have any idea how you feel about anything at all... So if you still have feelings for Steve, or you're just using me to get back at him for something, just tell me, will you? Cause I'm really tired of questioning where I stand."

Tony let out an exasperated sigh, "Do we really have to do this now?"

"If not now, then when, Tony? Because I truly am getting tired of not knowing what this is. I'm tired, Tony." Bruce rubbed his forehead with the sleeve of his sweater. "I don't even know why you keep me around sometimes. Is it really because you feel something for me, or am I charity case to you? A-A tool to make Steve want you back?"

"No! I can't believe that you can still be this stupid, even with all of the Ph.D.'s you have."

Bruce scoffed, "So you think I'm stupid?"

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, running his fingers through his hair. "No baby, I don't think you're stupid, I'm sorry. I'm just stressed."

"You're always stressed. You're going to have to figure out how to deal with it."

With that, Bruce turned and walked back into the apartment without sparing so much as a glance back in Tony's direction. Sure, Tony will admit, not out loud or to anyone else, hell, barely even to himself that yes. The real reason he started hooking up with Bruce in the first place was to get Steve's attention back. He thought if they were caught sleeping together then Steve would have no choice but to pay some attention to him... But then Nat caught them in the most ridiculous way. With Tony laying like a pretentious asshole across their bed and Bruce, knelt down between his legs blowing him like his life depended on it.

And Tony, shit, all he did was stare at Nat with a smug grin as he kept forcing Bruce's head back down every time the poor guy came up for air. And Natasha, all she did was stare directly back into Tony's eyes as her cheeks turned as red as her hair, and he thought maybe she was just going to walk right over and beat him within an inch of his life... But she didn't. In fact, she didn't even tell Steve about what she saw.

No, what she did was probably worse... She told Bucky. And Bucky nearly killed him for it. Tony touched his throat where Bucky's fingers had once been, easily stealing away any chance he'd get to breathe.

And in the end, he still never got what he wanted. He couldn't lie and say that he hadn't noticed Steve's eyes on him. He knew Steve was naive enough to still have feelings for him after all he'd done, and it would be his downfall. Somewhere deep down he thinks they both knew it too. And while maybe now he still felt jealous or whatever, he'd put his feelings for Steve away in order to really be with Bruce. They had so much in common with one another, and it was so much easier to communicate with someone that speaks science.

And yes, Tony will admit that somewhere inside he still had feelings for the old man, but it was too much too late now. Steve had just proposed to a man he'd been with much longer than Tony had even been alive. Tony leaned on the railing and hung his head.


	46. forty-six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A New Year and A New Angst (New Years part. 1)
> 
> //tw: contains word r*pe EDITED: adding a content warning for date-r*pe drug usage

Midnight was approaching rapidly and the party was in full swing. The colored lights were set on strobe and the music was turned up louder than it needed to be, but none of these sweaty hormonal teenagers seemed to care about the noise or the temperature.

Peter was a little more intoxicated than he should be, especially since he'd never drank before tonight. Peter was really good on rules and laws, especially underage drinking, but there were a lot of bad influences here.

Nat managed to talk the guys into letting Peter have a small gathering for the weekend, so the three of them could be alone. They were somewhere in Italy at the moment, and Peter's party had gotten a little out of hand. There were way too many people for this apartment.

Peter'd set up lights and music in one of the first-floor apartments, so nobody's belongings would get messed up on the upper levels. What had started out with as little as 10 people has easily turned into 60, all packed into this small room, singing and grinding and drinking.

MJ had managed to be the one that talked Peter into drinking in the first place and what started out as a small beer quickly turned into about 15 Jell-O shots. Peter's abilities made it a little difficult to get drunk, but this was his first time and he didn't seem to be giving up any time soon.

As of right now, he was sitting on a rickety old counter going shot for shot with some of the senior kids that showed up earlier with alcohol. MJ and Ned were looking on in concern while Peter laughed loudly with these senior kids. One of the senior boys was leaning on the counter next to Peter and touching on his leg. Whether Peter noticed or not, they didn't know.

Peter absolutely noticed and in his drunken amusement he started flirting back. The flirting ranged from touching the guy's arm to running his fingers through his hair while the guy stood between his legs. The flirting peaked when Peter went from laughing to sloppily making out with the unnamed guy.

This was the time that Ned and MJ decided to intervene because they remembered that Peter had said that he'd been seeing someone, and it wouldn't be good for him to be caught hooking up with someone at a party.

Ned served as the distraction to the guy, talking up a storm as only Ned knew how to do, and MJ half carried Peter outside away from the crowd. While he was drunk and blabbering on about God only knows what, she fished his phone out of his pocket and pressed the phone icon next to that Wade guy's name in Peter's contacts.

She figured that was the guy, based on the cutesy heart and winky emojis next to his name.

The call was answered on the third ring, and on the other end was a cheerful sounding voice, "Hiya, Petey baby. What's up?"

MJ looked to Peter who was playing with pebbles on the ground. "Hey, you're the guy dating Peter right?"

The tone of the voice on the other end changed when whoever it was realized that they weren't talking to Peter himself. "I suppose, who's asking?"

She sighed and grabbed onto Peter's arm to pull him off of the ground and into a standing position. "My name's MJ, I'm at Peter's place. He's having a party and he's wasted and I figure that you know how to help better than I do."

There was a moment of silence and then some shuffling. "Keep him outside where it's cold, I'll be there soon."

The call ended and she looked at Peter's phone screen for a second before putting a password lock on it and tucking it into her pocket so Peter wouldn't be tempted to do anything stupid with it, and then she let him sit back down on the ground before sitting with him.

By the time that Wade actually arrived, 'soon' had become too late, and Peter had already escaped MJ and run back inside somewhere impossible to find. MJ waited outside until the man approached her and then had to explain how Peter had escaped her, and how she'd been looking everywhere with no sign of him.

She followed the older man around and they continued to search for Peter together, and when they found him, Wade was ready to kill everyone in the room too.

Because Peter had been hanging out with those senior kids like it was no problem in the world. He let them pressure him into drinking even though he didn't want to, and with one of them making his drinks, it wasn't hard for his cup to get spiked.

They had Peter laying on the floor of this tiny bathroom, quietly protesting as hands touched all over him. Wade slammed one of the boys' heads into the wall and swept a girl's feet out from underneath her as she tried to run.

He turned to MJ, basically claiming her as a new sidekick of sorts. "You need to get all of those other kids out of there before I start shooting everyone in their knees."

She quickly left the bathroom and it was easy to hear the abrupt ending of the music and the girl pushing all of the other kids out the front door. In the meantime, Wade had both guns trained on a couple of the seniors and was standing in front of the door so none of them could leave.

"If anyone touches that boy, or tries to leave, I will shoot you, do you understand?" The question was met with a couple of quiet whimpers and mostly-silent nodding as they all raised their hands up in surrender. A knock from the other side of the door came, and it was the girl again, asking if she should call the police or not.

He told her to wait, and that she could call the police as soon as he'd finished putting the fear of god into these kids. The fact that they were near adults that somehow found amusement in drugging underage kids at parties was disgusting, and if it weren't for Peter laying on the floor and looking up at Wade like he were a complete saint, none of these kids would still be breathing.

He was fully aware of the puppy dog look that Peter was giving him from where he was laying, and not wanting to hear any lies out of these kids, he took to asking Peter.

"Can you talk, Petey?" Peter's response never came, as the boy was suddenly looking around in an almost panic.

Wade quickly asked which one drugged him, and a sleazy looking boy in a beanie answered him from the corner. Wade pointed both pistols at him, demanding to know what he gave Peter.

The douchebag was obviously high as he answered, "Aww man, nothin' bad, just a little bit of Cherry Meth, ya know? It's no big deal."

Wade was getting angrier now, especially knowing that he'd been given such a strong date-rape drug. He stepped closer to the kid, demanding to know what time they drugged Peter, to begin with. The soberest of the little group answered from the door, her voice meek. She said it'd only been maybe 45 minutes since they slipped it into his cup. Even the smaller doses of GHB could last up to 4 hours. Knowing this, he demanded once more- and none too gently- to know how much they gave him. She said it was a little more than he would need because he's smaller than the people the others usually dose up.

All of the other kids started yelling at her to shut up, so Wade let off a round into the ceiling. It made them all jump, but Peter was almost totally unresponsive. Wade could easily tell that this girl didn't want to be a part of this, so he decided to strike a deal. He'd let her off easy if she helped him out.

All she had to do for him was get him the names of all of these kids, where they kept their stash and their ages. And then she had to swear she'd tell the cops all she knew if it came down to it, even if it meant she might get in trouble too, and she swore instantly. In return, he wouldn't threaten her with bodily harm and wouldn't mention her as one of the bad kids to the cops, if they even got involved in the first place.

He told her to get the other girl, MJ, and try and get Peter at least into the living room from here, as he wasn't going to take his eyes off of these asshole addicts. She called for MJ and she came at once, the two of them hauling off an unmoving Peter. He instructed the girls to keep his shoulders elevated, and to make sure he was breathing all the time.

He was wondering why his healing abilities weren't fighting off the drug... Did the serum affect his body's healing properties? No, now was not the time to think about that. Not when there was a room of little assholes that thought it was okay to drug kids right in front of him.

MJ and the other girl had Peter propped up against a wall. He was dripping with sweat and staring off at nothing. He was shaking, and after a minute he began heaving, but it only lasted a second because in the next he was throwing up all over himself. The other girl called for Wade, who only poked his head out of the door. The merc's heart dropped when he saw his boy, shaking and vomiting with no idea what was happening whatsoever.

Peter's head turned towards the bathroom once he was finished vomiting, and then he was out. Passed out against the wall and covered in puke.

Wade instructed both girls to find something to catch puke in for when he threw up again. They were both covered but didn't seem to care much as one got up to look for a bucket or something, and the other one stayed with Peter, probably to make sure he didn't choke on his own puke.

Wade turned back into the bathroom and let off a round just beside one of the boy's heads. One of the girls was crying, nearly begging for her life. One of the other boys was begging that they be let go, but the sleazy one that said drugging Peter was 'no big deal' was just smirking. Wade asked him if he thought any of this was fucking funny, and he just laughed, being too high to comprehend what was happening. Wade had had enough.

MJ looked up when the bathroom door opened and Wade came out of it. Behind him, all of the kids began filing out of the bathroom, all looking afraid from their lives. One of the girls was shaking, and the sleazy one was covered in blood. It looked like it was his own. The kids all sprinted out of the front door and Wade crouched down by Peter, who was awake once again awake, but still mostly unresponsive.

He told the girls to follow him as he scooped Peter up. They all went up to Peter's room where Wade put Peter in the tub, still fully dressed. He turned to the girls after that and gave MJ specific instructions to go upstairs, go into the apartment, go into the middle dresser drawer and get some of Natasha's clothes to wear for now, and to shower while they were up there. He also warned them that if anything else was touched, they'd be in big trouble and that they were to come straight back downstairs once they were finished.

They agreed and MJ lead the way. The girl seemed obedient enough to follow some simple instructions, and she was. She stood still as a statue while MJ was showering, and her own shower was quick. They then locked up the apartment and came back downstairs. They found Wade sitting on the side of the tub, messing with Peter's hair.

"I'm sure you girls are ready to go home, huh? If you've been drinking, let me know and I'll get you money for a cab."

MJ shook her head and crossed her arms. "We're not leaving Peter. Not until he's better... I know he's safe with you, but he's my friend."

"Speaking of friends, where did the other one go?"

They shook their heads and informed him that they sent Ned home at the same time that they made everyone else leave, and that he'd come by in the morning when he had money for a cab. Wade nodded and stood, taking this moment while Peter was still to talk to the girls. He pointed to the closet.

"There's extra blankets in there, you can make yourselves a place on the floor. I'll take care of Peter and make sure you girls get home safely in the morning, okay?"

After a moment, MJ agreed but told him that he was to wake them if anything happened. He agreed with a laugh before thanking them both for helping. He told MJ that he was lucky to have a friend like her around.

He watched from the bathroom door as the girls made their bed and went to sleep. He switched the light off before closing the bathroom door so as not to disturb them. He thought it was kinda fucked that they had to be so grown up tonight, despite their young ages.

He looked to Peter in the tub and decided that this whole night was just fucked beyond repair.


	47. forty-seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year, Same Mistakes (New Years part 2)

Wade was pacing the small bathroom while waiting out the final stretch of the drugs being in Peter's system. Once he was finally a little closer to normal Wade could get him cleaned up and fed, then eventually to bed. For now, though, he was preoccupied pacing and asking himself just how he managed to let Peter get into this situation in the first place. Why weren't his friends with him? If one of them had been there, maybe his drink wouldn't have been spiked.

Truthfully though, if one of his friends had been there, he probably wouldn't have had anything to drink at all and would have never been in this situation in the first place. Wade scratched his brow and sighed. If he'd been here in the first place nothing would have happened either. He chose work over coming to the party, and now the consequences were getting to his head.

The whole butterfly effect was really getting to him. If he'd skipped work, Peter wouldn't have been drugged, but the bad guys also would have got away scot-free. And there was no way in hell that he was about to let that happen. No, this was a ladder that he was working his way up. The more jobs he took, the more money he had, the more trust he had. Everything worked according to plan. And the plan was to move forward... But not like this.

He looked down at the boy he... loved? In shame.

Everything he'd done to get here, all the orders he'd taken, the lives he'd ended. Even all of the people he saved... It seems like it's all been for nothing when things like this happen... And if anything happens to Peter, then the whole world could end... And what would he get out of it?

It'd already been made clear that if he failed his mission, then he would spend the rest of his life as a dancing monkey behind a thick wall of glass somewhere. An experiment for their amusement. He'd be a lab rat all over again. There were a lot of things he could handle, but he didn't think that could be one of them. He never wanted to do that again...

But then again, if he completed his mission, then the girl would suffer that fate instead. She'd live her life knowing nothing more than torture and pain inside of a 4x4 room. She would never know love or gentility. All she would know how to do is be the weapon that they wanted her to be. She'd never know what she was truly capable of...

She would never know that she was the key.

She'd never find anything inside of herself. She'd never find someone that made her feel like they put the stars in the sky just for her to see at night. She'd never know Peter, and all he'd do for her.

As of right now though, she didn't exist yet, and by the looks of things, she wouldn't for a while. He sat on the closed lid of the toilet and made a call directly to the man who made him the serum that he gave to Peter.

"Listen, I think there's something wrong with the serum you gave me." On the other end, silence, but he knew he was being listened to rather intently. "His healing powers are fucked. Some kids drugged him tonight and his body isn't fighting it off as fast as it should. You either need to tell me how to remove the serum, or find me something that'll up his healing abilities back to normal. This wasn't part of the deal."

Knowing he'd receive no verbal answer, he hung up and put his phone down. Less than a minute later a text from a blocked number came through with a time and place to meet for an additive serum to repair Peter's healing abilities. Three days from now, high noon, just a few blocks from here. Then, he'd be able to fix Peter's healing ability back to normal and hopefully wouldn't have to deal with anything like this again.

He just wanted his baby safe, no matter what it took. No matter if he wasn't his baby just yet. He would be, Wade knew it. He had to. It was the only way that this could work. The only way!

Wade was sitting with his head in his hands when he heard a soft groan from the tub. He looked up to see Peter glancing around in confusion. "Wade?"

Wade crouched next to the tub and held onto Peter's hand. "I'll explain, but first we gotta get you cleaned up okay? You really did a number on yourself."

It was then that Peter happened to look down and finally see the vomit caked into his clothes, crusted on his hands. He began to tear up at wondering what the hell happened to him, but he calmed down once Wade cupped his cheeks.

"I'm gonna clean you up, Petey, you're gonna be alright. It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be all cleaned up and fed and nice and toasty in your bed before sun-up, okay?"

Peter was vaguely nodding along to what Wade was saying all while being helped to his feet and out of his clothes.

"Do you want these washed or thrown out?"

Peter looked over the clothes and shook his head. "Save the shirt, I don't care about the rest."

Wade pulled the shirt out of the pile and stuck it by Peter's laundry basket before kicking the rest of the clothes away. He helped Peter to stand outside of the tub while Wade ran the water to a good heat before helping Peter back into it. He told him to sit and relax for a minute and Peter obliged, letting his muscles relax a little in the hot tub. Wade gathered the ruined clothes and dropped them into the trash before starting a load of Peter's laundry for him. He threw a couple of big towels and pajamas into the dryer to let them run for a while and get warm.

Wade poked his head out of the bathroom and saw that the girl that helped him was awake, sitting next to MJ who was still sleeping. He whisper-yelled to her, asking what her name was. She told him it was Marie. If it was the truth or not he didn't care. She asked if he had a smoke she could bum, and he said yes, but only if she'd carry the trash out when she went to smoke it.

She agreed and took both the cigarette and the trash bag from his outstretched hand before quietly going outside. Wade waits to make sure MJ stays asleep before closing the bathroom door most of the way. He turns back to Peter who's already looking up at him with innocent eyes.

"What happened to me, Wade? Was I... Taken advantage of?"

Wade rushed to Peter's side and took his hand. "Oh no baby, I would never let anything like that happen to you... No... But I wasn't fast enough to keep them from spiking your drink. they gave you a drug that would basically make sure that you wouldn't remember... Not their faces, not talking to them, nothing. Your friend MJ stayed over. She and another girl helped me take care of you, and that other girl is gonna help me take care of the guys who did this to you."

Peter's eyes were wide. Drugged? MJ? "M-MJ's here?"

Wade nodded, telling him that she refused to leave until he was better. He just nodded and looked back to the bath water. Wade didn't try and say anything more, nor did he try and make him talk anymore. He just carefully helped him wash up, then wrapped him in the warm towels he pulled from the dryer. He let the clothes keep running so they'd stay warm for a while as he helped Peter dry off. He asked him what he wanted to eat, and Peter said he'd be okay with something quick because he just wanted to crawl into bed and be comfortable.

Wade laughed and agreed to make him something while he dressed, and Peter nodded. Peter waited for Wade to leave the bathroom before sitting on the edge of the tub. Wade came back a couple of minutes later with a sandwich and a can of Sprite, which Peter gladly took.

Wade didn't think he'd ever seen anyone eat a sandwich so fast, and it kinda made him chuckle, but also feel bad. Peter must be starving. Once he was finished eating, Peter kept sipping on his Sprite, not wanting to over-do it and throw up everything he just got into him.

Wade took the plate back into the kitchen and when he returned, he helped Peter into his warm clothes, and then carried him to his bed, quickly tucking him under the covers so the clothes would heat the blankets a little bit and he wouldn't freeze to death.

Marie was now curled up with MJ on the floor, their limbs tangled together and hair covering their faces. It was cute. Wade turned off the bathroom lights and locked Peter's door after doing a quick glance around to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be. He used the dimmer to turn down the lights and smiled when Peter plugged in the fairy lights strung across the bed's headboard.

Wade turned the lights down a little more before crawling into bed with Peter and pulling him close. He kissed the boy on the top of his head and felt Peter grip tightly onto his arm with both hands.

"I'm safe now, right? You're not... Nothing's gonna happen, right?" His voice was breaking a little and it hurt Wade's heart.

"No baby, you're safe. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. I've got you now." He kissed Peter on the head again. Peter calmly curled up to Wade's chest and let himself be held, fully aware that Wade had a hand wrapped around the handle of a gun beneath his pillow.

And he felt the safest he'd ever been in his life.


	48. forty-eight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Peter sees Wade after the New Years, things go South.

Peter pulls his jacket closer to his body. He's not really dressed for the weather, purposely only wearing a thin jacket despite the thick snow. He left early this morning to avoid seeing his parents and getting scolded for his lack of preparation for the day. He took a total detour from school after he got off of the train, walking in the totally opposite direction.

He wanted to see Aunt May. He wanted to know why she was avoiding him so strongly. He deserved to know why she suddenly didn't seem to want him anymore, and he was going to get answers, dammit. He was done letting her push him away. He was done being tossed aside with no explanation. He was gonna go in there and demand the answers that he deserved.

The fact that she didn't do so much as call for Christmas was the last straw for Peter. He understood that she might be busy sometimes, with work and whatever she does in her free time, but he doesn't see how it's any kind of fair for her to cut him out the way that she did. She raised him almost his whole life and now she treats him like he doesn't exist anymore, and he demands to know why.

He stands outside of her apartment building for a long minute, looking up at the floor that she lives on to hype himself up and go over his words one more time. He finally enters the building and takes the stairs two at a time up to her floor. As soon as he left the stairwell he could feel the nerves begin to build up, but he forced them back down.

He came up to her door and had finally had enough of being nice and calm. He knocked, or rather, banged on the door. "May! Hey May, it's me, it's Peter! Open up will you?"

The wooden door opened partially, but even through the small opening Peter could easily tell that something inside was wrong. He pushed gently on the door and called for May again. The door opened all the way, only stopping when it ran into the table against the wall behind it. May was nowhere to be seen. Peter could see the dust floating through the air and coating all of the furniture. It was abundantly clear that nobody'd been here in months.

If May wasn't here, then where the hell was she? Peter's eyes fell on the broken coffee table and he began to fear that the worst had happened to her. "May?!"

He began searching room to room, hoping that he wouldn't stumble upon her as a corpse. Since everything was covered in dust, it was fairly easy to see the clean spots where things had been moved from. May's phone and laptop were just two of the missing things, along with a couple of pairs of shoes, her whole jewelry box and some clothes from her closet. That must mean that May was still alive somewhere.

Figuring that he wouldn't be back here again for a while, he took his duffle bag from his room and his suitcase and stuffed them both full with most of the things that he left behind. He resorted to putting things in his backpack when he filled both of those up. He really had no intention of attending school today. He knew that by now his parents would all be out of the house, so it would be safe to go home.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and tried to hide the panic in his voice as he called Wade. Wade didn't answer, but he called again. This time he did answer, but all Peter could hear on the other end was gunshots and screaming.

He waited, anxiety only getting worse. He heard Wade curse before letting out three more rounds and then finally sighing into the receiver. "Petey! How's it going?"

Peter rubbed his forehead. "Can you pick me up? I need a ride home."

Wade chuckled shyly before speaking. "Yeaaaa, about that... I can't help. I'm not even on the same planet as you right now."

Peter wasn't mad about the ride, he was more ticked off that Wade left the GODDAMN PLANET and didn't even think to tell him that he was leaving. Wade continued to go on about he'd be back but he didn't know when.

 

The 'when' however, occurred in April, long after Peter had last heard from Wade at all.

At first, Peter worried, wondering if someone finally found a way to kill Wade, and then after a while, he let himself quit caring. He had better things to do. He had A's to make and he had parties to go to and he had missions to go on. Most important of all though, he had an Aunt to find, and he'd stop at nothing to do so.

That's what he was doing now. Sitting with Tony in his lab watching over the last known footage of May. They'd combed through 62 hours of footage so far, and there was no sign so far of what happened to her... Until Tony paused the bit of footage he was looking at on his laptop. You could see the conflict on his face.

"Peter? Hey, you may want to come and see this." Peter could hear the stress in Tony's voice, and it made him almost not want to see what he had on his screen. But he had to know. He had to know what happened to her, and if he'd ever see her alive again.

He walked around to the other side of the table and peered at the recording over Tony's shoulder. It showed the hallway outside of May's house. Six men in all black uniforms pulled her out of her apartment while she was kicking and screaming... Following behind the group, casting a quick glance at the camera... Was Wade.

The glaring through the mask was the last thing Peter saw before the Wade on recording shot the camera.

Tony watched the teen, worried now as Peter's face was completely expressionless. There was videographic evidence of the man that Peter had been seeing, seemingly kidnapping the boy's only living relative.

Tony watched as the boys face transformed through several different emotions in linear succession. First confusion, then sadness, then anger, then grief, then anger and confusion again.

Tony slowly rose from his chair, reaching a hand out to the young boy, who seemed crippled by his emotions. Cautiously, he touched the boy's shoulder. Peter crippled for real, face crumbling as the emotions overwhelmed him in confusing surges, all blurring together and crashing against him like 30-foot waves.

He begins sobbing, curling tightly in on himself, hands clutching at his chest. Tony pulls the boy tightly to his own chest as he sobs, scratching at his own skin in a fit of desperation and rage as he cries, screaming out in angry agony. He keeps repeating himself, screaming out, 'Why, why, why?!"

Why did Wade do this? Why did Wade take her? Why did Wade betray him? Why? Why? Why?

Tony wished he knew the answer, but all he could do was hold this boy, hold his son, hold him tightly.

He let the boy cry, he let the boy wail and fight and sob. He let the boy grieve for the only family he'd ever known before... The only family that could very well be gone.

...And then his cries were over as suddenly as they began, and he was dead silent, eyes shifting as if he was listening for something. And he was. Very faintly Peter could hear the vibrations of his cell phone. He stormed over to it and ripped it out of his jacket pocket.

One look at the name on the screen made him look extensively furious, then he changed his expression to look happy as ever. "Wade? Oh, back are you? It's nice to hear from you, it's been a while."

Tony couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, but he listened as Peter set up a meeting with Wade somewhere obscure at some strange time tomorrow. Once they hung up, Peter gathered his things, and very calmly said, "I need to talk to Bucky as soon as I get the chance."

And then he walked out of the lab, leaving Tony slightly terrified.


	49. forty-nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter realizes very quickly that betrayal doesn't come from your enemies.

Bucky was a soldier. He was trained and prepared to handle any number of situations. Young Peter Parker approaching him and asking for a weapon, however, was a situation he wasn't the most prepared for. He promised not to ask any questions, as long as Peter could say with certainty that nobody was going to die.

Peter outright promised that nobody was going to die, and Bucky reluctantly asked what kind of weapon he was looking for. Peter said he'd take whatever was concealable and would do a lot of damage. Bucky offered him a selection of blades and smaller handguns. Peter said he'd take a knife, as he didn't quite trust himself with guns just yet.

Bucky had been teaching him weapons, as had Nat. Steve taught him more hand-to-hand, as you can never be too over-prepared in this line of work. Bucky thought he was pretty good with guns, but if Peter wasn't ready, then he wasn't ready, and that was okay.

Bucky watched as Peter looked over the array of blades. The young boy took two switchblades that varied widely in size and another thicker knife. He hid them on his person as Bucky put the rest of the blades away before turning to face the boy.

"Is this supposed to be one of those things I pretend I know nothing about?" He asked as Peter put his jacket back on. The boy said yes and he sighed. "Peter, if anything happens to you..."

Peter looked up at his closest father figure. "I'll leave the tracker on my watch on. So if I'm not back in an hour, you can come get me."

Bucky rose a brow. "You really have thought of everything, haven't you, мальчик?"

Peter smiled to himself as he walked towards the door. He turns to the older man as he grabs the handle and repeats the one phrase he'd asked Nat to teach him. "You know what they say: Яблоко от яблони."

With that he walked out the door, leaving Bucky halfway to tears. Peter was two floors down by the time Bucky got to the door. He had to watch the boy leave, at least to have a vague idea of where the boy would be going. Who knew what he'd do if he never came back again.

Bucky walked back into the house and quickly opened Natalia's laptop. He double-tapped a button that brought up Friday. She greeted him and he returned it before asking that she bring up the signal from Peter's watch.

She asked if everything was okay, and he said yes, they were, for now. He pulled up a chair as she brought up the signal and he sat at the table and watched that little dot travel across the map... All the while, praying that his little boy would make it home safely.

 

Peter stepped off of the train and onto the platform. He still had a little ways to go before he made the rendezvous point, but he was close. Just another five minutes of walking time was all it would take before he was face to face with the asshole that kidnapped his aunt.

He made what felt like a neverending trip to the point they were meant to meet. He saw Wade standing there, looking excited to see him. Peter reached into his coat as he approached the merc, who was still beaming. Peter approached quicker, easily pretending to be happy... And yanked the knife from inside his jacket, quickly plunging it into Wade's chest. There was a spurt of blood and a sickening crack of Wade's sternum as Peter shoved the blade as hard as he could into the merc's body.

The confusion on Wade's face was instant, and so was Peter's, as he felt something in his own abdomen. He looked down and saw a syringe in Wade's hand... The needle was pressed all the way into him, and whatever fluid had been inside, was now in his body.

He felt arms wrapping around his body and he tried to fight them. There were too many. He pulled a second knife from his person and jabbed it into one of the arms. He heard a yell as the arm retracted, and he continued to fight to get away. He swung and elbowed at the people behind him and kicked his legs out to change the balance.

What had Wade done? How could he be behind this? How could he do this?

He struggled as more arms wrap around him, and he felt a sting in his neck. A familiar voice said, "Don't you worry now, everything will be just fine..."

He began to feel drowsy but kept fighting despite that. He couldn't let himself be taken, not now. He promised Bucky that he'd be home!

Everything started to go dark, but he fought to keep his eyes open. He saw Wade be lifted to his feet by men in black suits. Wade pulled the blade slowly from his chest.

And then everything finally went black.


	50. fifty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the big 50... where everything goes to shit.
> 
> also known as the chapter where I finally figured out how to work fucking italics.

Bucky only wasted 15 minutes after Peter's hour was up, and that time was spent gathering weapons and calling Steve to go with him. The little dot had been frozen on the map for too long now. Something had to be more than wrong.

He told Steve the address that was on the screen, but Steve wouldn't make it there before he would. Bucky was on his way down the stairs as he talked to Steve on the phone. He was going to raise all kinds of hell if he got there and saw something other than Peter.

Bucky hung up the phone when he reached the bottom level, boots kicking up dust as he marched to his bike. He swung a leg over it and slammed the kick-starter. He spun out of the driveway, kicking up all kinds of rocks and dirt into the air as he did so.

He'd been doing pretty good about the whole not-killing thing, and as much as he loved that boy, if he had to kill for him, he was going to be pissed.

Despite being able to weave his bike between cars and drive it up sidewalks, Bucky had a feeling that Steve wasn't very far behind him. Bucky swore that if that Wade guy had anything to do with this, he was going to kill him as many times as it took to get the point across that he wasn't the guy to be fucked with.

Bucky followed Friday's directions to the letter, slowing his bike down as he approached the place that Peter was supposed to be in. He stopped the bike. Friday insisted that this was where the signal was coming from. 

Bucky dismounted the bike and walked around a little bit, gun drawn and ready to fire... Until he noticed something blinking on the ground. He raced over to it, only to discover that it was Peter's watch.

Bucky cursed as he crouched to grab it, but he was quick to notice the blood on the ground less than three steps away from where the watch was laying. Something bad happened here, and he needed to know what.

A car pulled up next to his bike and he quickly aimed the gun at it. Steve emerged from inside, hands raised. Bucky lowered his weapon and held up the watch.

"Somebody took Peter." He called as he approached Steve. He handed the watch over to his lover and watched as Steve brought up Friday. He asked the AI if there was any footage of what happened, and she brought up a hologram of the last 30 seconds of recording before Peter's pulse disappeared from the reader.

It showed Wade, and it showed a group of guys they didn't recognize grabbing Peter. They heard a familiar voice on the recording, but the camera didn't catch who it was, so there was no way to be totally sure. There was one thing they knew for sure though.

Peter had been taken by HYDRA. And they'd do whatever it took to get him back.

The first step of whatever it took, was finding Tony and showing him the footage. He, understandably, freaked as he set up the algorithms on his computer. The program was set up to scan every possible surveillance system for Peter's face. That meant ATM's, traffic cams, parking lot security cameras, the lot. He ran what faces of the suited men he could make out through every database he could get into.

He was having the van tracked and froze all of Peter's bank cards so his money couldn't be stolen... Though with something like this, it wasn't really about the money anyways. They'd taken Peter for a reason. What that reason was, nobody knew, but they'd all be damned if they couldn't find out.

The whole base was on high-alert while Peter was missing. Every single one of those S.H.I.E.L.D. agents bustling about in the hallways knew just how protective the Supers were of the young boy. Peter, being the youngest of them all, was special. He was meant to be protected at all costs.

All of those agents also knew what could happen to them if they were found out as traitors, so none of them so much as dared.

While Peter was being searched for, Natalia and Bucky never stopped training. They were pushing themselves harder than before. They were willing to do more damage than before. They'd do whatever it took for their little boy.

As for Steve, he trained too, just less. Most of Steve's time was either spent in a parental panic or out searching with a team for any traces of Peter. But it was nothing but useless. They weren't even sure if he was in the country anymore, let alone the same state.

It was agony. There was no sign of Deadpool either. They all knew that wherever he was, Peter would be. But there was so sign of him anywhere. Not one.

What none of them knew was that the answer was sitting right beneath their noses.

 

Despite Peter missing, and all of the chaos, right now all Steve wanted was some normality. He wanted to make breakfast for his lovers and watch television with them. He wanted Nat to laugh at him while he tried for the umpteenth time to figure out the coffee machine. He wanted to cuddle and kiss them and tell them everything would be fine.

But he couldn't. He couldn't tell them that everything was fine because it wasn't. Their boy was missing and the whole base could feel it. They could feel the overwhelming panic and emptiness. Tony hadn't slept in days. Neither had Bucky. Nobody had, really.

Everyone was a mess, wondering what'd become of their boy. If he was even alive... That was the one thought nobody wanted to discuss out loud. An idea none of them were willing to entertain.

Bucky had the same nightmare when he did happen to sleep. That they'd found the boy, just not in the way they'd hoped.

In his nightmares, they'd found him as a partially decomposing corpse, laying in a pool of his own crusted blood. And right next to him, always next to him, was that asshole in tights. Somehow Bucky knew that Wade wasn't the real cause for Peter's disappearance. If that bullshit mission to capture the mercenary was anything to go by anyway.

Bucky was a soldier. He knew what diversions looked like, and he knew damn good and well that that's exactly what that was. A diversion. The mission was meant to throw them off of something... What exactly, was the real question. It'd been months and he still was no closer to finding out the answer.

 

Bucky looked to the clock from where he sat on the floor of Peter's bedroom. It'd been exactly one week, three days, four hours and 12 minutes since Peter disappeared. Bucky knew what the new statistics were. He'd read them all over and over. He knew how the chances of finding a child under regular circumstances decreased with every hour that went by. He knew that if Peter had been taken by Hydra, their chances decreased twice as fast.

So why was he sitting here, in the boy's room, doing nothing? He was hoping that being here would give him some answers. Some kind of insight into what was happening. He was hoping that the silence would clear his mind, but so far it wasn't happening. If anything, the silence was making everything worse.

It was deafening, and heavy, weighing on him like an elephant on his chest. And it hurt. And he longed for the child that filled this space. The child that filled part of the emptiness inside of him. He knew that this child could never fully fill the space of two, but with one at least it would hurt less.

He just wanted to bring the boy back. He wanted his laughter to fill in the silence around them. He wanted the boy's smile to dull the ache in his chest. He wanted to teach the boy more. The boy who had so much to live for. He had so much ahead of him, and Bucky would be damned if Peter didn't get to see it.

He hit his head back against the wall and furrowed his brows. It sounded hollow, empty. He looked up to the wall above him and stood. He knocked on the wall very gently, listening very closely. He moved the framed picture of Peter and May where it hung on the wall and saw the square cut into it. He dug the edge of his knife into it and popped the panel out. Inside were two very thick manilla folders.

Their fronts were very simple, just two names in Peter's handwriting. He opened one and inside were printed files, photos, reports... These were Peter's birth parents. C.I.A. agents. These were the two people that made Peter afraid that the people in his life now might leave him at any given time. That they'd leave him somewhere and never return. These were the two that left him in May's care all those years ago.

He looked back into the hollow, seeing that there were more than just these files there. Inside Bucky could see clear as day the first knife he ever gave Peter, his first Spider-Man suit, a small Lego man that looked like Darth Vader, a bottle of his old web-fluid formula, a negative pregnancy test inside of a ziplock bag, one of Wade's masks, a photo of Peter's Aunt May and Uncle Ben, Peter's birth certificate, two old dirty pairs of dog tags that once belonged to him and Steve, one of Nat's guns tucked safely into it's holster, a book of baby names, and one of the oldest models of Tony's arc reactor.

It was like a nest, a shrine more like, to the past. Bucky returned the folders to their place and spotted one last thing. A folded piece of loose leaf paper. Carefully he removed it from its place and began to read Peter's scribbled writing.

_'Hey, future me. I don't know when you'll see this... If you'll ever see this. I don't know if I'm writing this for you or for me. Maybe it's for me, because maybe you're a corpse. But congratulations if you're not. That means we survived, and if you're really here reading this then only you know what it is we've survived. I can only imagine what we've been through. But if we did make it, then it means we either escaped, our family managed to find us, or Wade really isn't the bad guy in our story._

_I didn't think that he would be, after everything. But a guy like Wade is sure to keep us on our toes. If Wade is the one that saved us from whatever happened, but you still suspect him, I want you to try and remember the night on the bridge after we snuck out to go marauding. When he was there with us and we didn't have a care in the world. When we knew were safe._

_I know we've been through a lot while I'm here writing this for you... I'm sure by the time you're reading this you've been through more..._

_Future me, if you're not the one reading this... I can only assume the worst has happened to us and whoever found this is in the middle of clearing out our belongings... If that's true, then I'm sorry. To future me, and to whoever is reading this letter now. I knew what I was getting into when I left to find Aunt May... If you didn't find me, then I hope you at least found her. I hope she's safe._

_If this letter is found by anyone else before I'm found, then please return this to where you found it... If you're reading this after, then please let it make its rounds so I still get my chance to say goodbye._

_To Nat, for being my only real mother figure. For stepping up and taking her place when nobody else would. For caring for me like your own child, even when I was misbehaving. I love you._

_To Steve, for being one of my fathers. For teaching me what the world was like before my time. For being so caring, even when I wasn't. I love you._

_To Tony, for being another one of my fathers, and for taking me in in the first place. Without you, I'm sure I would've died long before this letter is found by all of you. I owe you so much, even in death. I love you._

_To Wade. For teaching me so much about myself. For teaching me that the person I wanted to be wasn't the wrong person. For teaching me so much about love and life in the short time we had together. I love you more than I can say._

_And to Bucky, for teaching me everything about weapons that I know. The things you've taught me may have been the difference between life and death for me. And you're reading this because I didn't make it, don't blame yourself. For being the one that I think found this letter. Because you know what they say. I love you._

_Peter B. Parker-Rogers-Romanoff-Barnes-Stark'_


	51. fifty-one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky just wants his boy back.
> 
> also now that I've figured out italics I'll be using that instead of just putting words in all caps. also, I think I'll use it to add in flashbacks so maybe in the future, we'll see more of the past.

Bucky let his eyes trail over what Peter declared to be his goodbyes to everyone. He wanted to crumple the paper and throw it away because it was bullshit and wherever Peter was, he was alive. But he resisted that urge because when Peter came back he would need this letter. He carefully placed it back where he got it from and closed up the hidden compartment again.

He couldn't stop thinking about what Peter's note to him said. He ran a hand through his hair and began muttering to himself. "Because I know what they say? What does that mean?"

There was a flash of memory in his mind of the last few seconds that he saw Peter before he left. When the boy had spoken to him in the Soldier's tongue. His tongue.

_Peter turned around as he grabbed the door handle, a smile on his face. "You know what they say: Яблоко от яблони."_

 

Suddenly, it dawned on him. "Яблоко от яблони," He repeated, stunned. Peter'd had a plan this whole time.

 

Bucky ran up the stairs as fast as he could, taking them two at a time to go even faster. He couldn't believe it took him so long to figure it out! He threw open the apartment door and Nat's quick reaction meant he had a gun pointed at his head, but he paid no mind. He took two large breaths and looked over at Steve. "I know what he meant! I get it! I can't believe it took me so long."

"Buck, what the hell are you talking about?" Steve asked as he put his cup down on the counter.

"Right before Peter left, he said "Яблоко от яблони"." Steve had no idea what that meant because he, of course, didn't speak Russain. Natalia lowered her weapon. Steve asked for clarification, and in unison, both Bucky and Nat said, "Like father like son."

Steve nodded like he knew what was going on, but he didn't know in the slightest. "I still have no idea what that means for us."

Bucky shakes his head, strands of long hair falling into his face. "I used to tell Peter stories about the things I remembered. Things from being Him. The tactics I used to use, the places I used to go."

Nat looked up at the two men. "Breadcrumbs."

Steve had one question. "How?"

And that one word really covered all of the questions. How would he leave them? How would they be found? How would they know that's what they were? They were both looking at him and he was quick to understand. He was the key to finding their boy.

 

After another long, sleepless week of trying to follow Peter's scattered bread crumbs, they came to a stop. They had all the crumbs they needed to piece the loaf together. Peter's clues were few and far between, but once Bucky found the first one scratched into the paint on the train he took to find Wade, they weren't too awfully difficult to notice once they happened across them.

Once they geared up and got to where they were meant to go, they were shocked to find the building completely empty... They'd been so close... Bucky fell to his knees after they searched the building over for the third time. "He's really not here..."

His shoulders shook and he looked up at Steve. "He's supposed to be here! Why isn't he here? What... What if he's..."

Steve shook his head. "No, we're going to find him. He's just fine, wherever he is."

 

Peter was not _just fine_ in any capacity. He was strapped down to a table less than half dressed while 10 or so Hydra agents were filling the room. He could see Steve and Bucky on the monitors over their shoulders, and he screamed. If only they could hear him.

An Agent turned and smacked him hard enough it made his head roll and he ceased his screaming. He's only been here two weeks, but it's felt like hell, and he hasn't seen Wade once. Was he going to die in here? No, he couldn't die. Not when his parents were right upstairs!

He heard an Agent say something about having guarded agents nearby, in case they found the secret entrance into the basement area. The other Agent asked why they didn't just go up there and kill them all, and Peter cried out again, begging for them to be left alone.

Again, he was smacked and again he silenced, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He saw Bucky rise to his feet and turn to go back the way they came and Peter cried harder. He was so close to being out of this hell-hole...

He did everything he could to forget about the horrible place that he was in. He did his best to try and block out the verbal abuse spat in his direction from whoever felt like it at the time. He tried to block out the sound of screaming from down the hall. God only knew who that was or when they'd be found.

Peter was healing from his injuries at an even slower rate than he was before he stabbed Wade. What had these assholes done to him?

An Agent in a lab coat came into the room once everyone else had left. Peter begged and pleaded with him for the millionth time, but today instead of silence, he was met with a sharp pain to the thigh, and then the other thigh.

A couple of moments passed and his legs were completely numb.

"Hey! Hey, what are you doing?!" Peter tried to struggle, but he couldn't feel his legs to move them. His ankles had been freed, but these guys really thought of everything. The Agent, Doctor? Parted his legs and Peter felt the panic rise up in his throat like bile, and he tried to fight but he couldn't move his legs and his arms were still bound. Was this guy about to touch him?

He screamed and thrashed what of his body he could feel. "They're gonna fucking kill you!"

The person paid no mind to his screaming but sighed before looking at his clipboard.

"Wade is gonna fucking kill you if you touch me again!"

This time the person took an interest. "Oh, you poor, deluded child... Deadpool works for us. He has _always_ worked for us."

Peter protested through the man's speech.

"And as for your... _parents_? They won't ever find you here. They don't _want_ to find you. They don't want you back, Peter. They never wanted you. Nobody wants you, Peter. Not them, not May, not your _real_ parents... You're going to be down here with us... _Forever_."

Peter felt hot tears rolling down his cheeks and he was so focused on the thought that maybe this man was telling the truth and nobody really wanted him, that he almost missed being injected with something. He squirmed.

"What are you doing to me?"

"Deadpool failed his mission to impregnate you, so I'm using his DNA to do it properly."

And then the panic began again. He couldn't even think straight as the man put his legs back down and halfways fixed his hospital gown. He'd been kidnapped, to make a child?! This couldn't be right, this couldn't be happening. All he could do was keep crying as he left.

He ended up crying himself to sleep on the cold metal table, and when he woke there was a hand over his mouth. Afraid, he fought before seeing the masked Deadpool over him. As soon as Wade removed his hand, he started crying again.

"Go away! Go away, you lied to me! You lied to me, I'm your mission!" He whimpered. It broke Wade's heart to see the boy like this. He knew that Hydra finally got to the boy.

"No, no, Petey, I wanna get you out of here."

"No, you don't! You just wanna get your money!" Peter was in hysterics now, sobbing so hard his body shook. He just wanted to go home, he wanted to be safe... He didn't want to hear Agents walking into the room, and he didn't want to hear their gunfire.

He screamed as a bullet entered his thigh and continued to scream as Wade was shot repeatedly, his blood and chunks of skin getting blown all over Peter. Wade's body went limp over him and continued to cover him in blood, and all Peter could do was cry. His voice was too hoarse to keep screaming. The Agents in the room didn't enjoy his hysterics, so they shot him a second time in the shoulder at point blank.

The pain was too much for him, and he let his eyes droop shut, silently praying for someone to save him, even though he knew that they'd never come.

He was going to die here, he was certain.


	52. fifty-two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> someone at Hydra has figured out what Peter's fears are
> 
> sorry this one is a little short, I've been just trying to get some out and also stay sane aha
> 
> TW: gore, claustrophobic spaces.

When Peter woke up, the first thing he was made aware of was the searing pain in his body. It burned in his leg and in his shoulder, and for a moment he couldn't remember why. It took him a long minute, but then he remembered the way that those Hydra agents shot Wade right over him... The way that they shot him at close range without care.

The second thing he was made aware of was the fact that it was pitch black and that he was no longer chained to a table, but instead closed inside of what seemed to be a box. He extended his arms as far as he could, his breathing already picking up. The box he was in was no bigger than a small refrigerator box.

His Spidey-sense was going haywire, the absolute sheer panic invading his body like a burglar come to make off with all of his belongings. And he screamed. He kicked and he fought.

But the wood was strong and he'd been weakened and there was absolutely no chance of escape like this. But he kicked despite the searing, blinding pain that comes with every move of his leg. And he punched, despite the same accompanying pain with every move of his arm.

And he fought until his leg couldn't take the movement anymore and his bloody knuckles ached the same way his heart did. And he screamed until his voice was hoarse and cried until he was all out of tears.

He curled in on himself, to try and make his small space seem bigger, but he knew that the same panic would ensue once he woke again. He was sure that this nightmare would last for the rest of his life, however long that may be.

 

In his dream, the harsh and horrible reality of his life did not end but instead elevated. He threw open a set of heavy double doors and saw May chained to a table identical to the one he'd previously been on.

Her hospital gown was shredded revealing the bloody rags and stitches underneath. In a flash of light, the scene before him changed and instead of a beaten May, instead there she lay with her stomach slit open, guts hung halfway to the floor.

Peter covered his mouth to try and swallow the urge to vomit as he took in the sight of the corpse before him. She was absolutely covered in blood and cuts and bullets and the hole in her chest revealed her missing ribs... missing _everything._

She was no longer his aunt. Now she was merely just the husk of what she used to be. It was her skin. Her hair. Her bones... But it wasn't her.

Not anymore.

Everything that she used to be had been stripped clean away, like a car just before it's rebuilt.

With another flash, the room looked back to normal. May looked alive and breathing and not dissected in the slightest... And then he heard her sing-song voice coming from somewhere other than the body in front of him.

"She doesn't love you, Peter..."

He looked around trying to find where her voice was coming from.

"I have _never_ loved you, Peter... I never wanted you in my home... In my _life_... It's _your_ fault that he's dead, Peter... It's your fault that Ben is gone!" The sing-song voice turned into pained screaming directly in his ears. Then the screaming turned into high-pitched ringing.

He covered his ears to try and drown it out, but it was coming from the inside of his head, not the outside. There was no way to escape the shrill sound pounding away at his eardrums. All he could do was curl in on himself and wait for it to fade away.

 

When he next opened his eyes, he was somewhere different. Inside of another small room with no windows and this time no doors, no way to escape. The room he was in was dimly-lit, closed in. The room had no more than a five-foot span in any direction. Peter could stretch out his arms and touch both walls, but he couldn't stand up straight. The five-foot ceiling wouldn't allow it.

The room was cold, no, not cold, it was freezing. And Spiders don't do well in the cold. This one would do worse, as he didn't have anything to protect himself from the bite of the chill... Another one of his fears, as irrational as it may seem. Freezing to death was pretty high up on Peter's list of things to be afraid of. The fear had increased significantly when the team got temporarily trapped in a blizzard in Niseko and Peter got lost in 12 feet of snow.

As of this moment though, there was no real snow, and there were no Avengers to save him. It was just him, the four walls, and the vents that pumped in the ice cold air.

 

....Peter wished that this was all a dream. It wasn't.

 

Some of it was hallucinations from medication, some of it was real, cold-blooded torture.

And Peter could no longer tell the difference between what the real torture was, and what wasn't. It all felt so real. From being boxed in, to May's lifeless corpse.

And it made him wish that they'd just kill him already so he wouldn't have to deal with the harsh reality of not knowing anymore. He _longed_ for it. He wanted it all to be over. He wanted to be free of this hell. He wasn't sure how long he'd been here anymore. The torture made all of the days and nights blend together into a meaningless film, tightly wrapped around his life.

_He wanted to suffocate in it._


	53. fifty-three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a brief rundown of how everyone's doing... spoiler alert: it isn't good.

Peter couldn't remember a day that he wasn't being locked up, drugged, or beaten. He couldn't remember a time that he wasn't being punished for not conceiving on their terms. The thoughts that once kept him sane in this place were now nothing more than distant memories, fantasies with faces he could no longer remember. All hope of escaping this place seemed to be the only thing that could ever escape the dripping concrete walls.

He could no longer remember the place that he called home or the people that lived in it. He couldn't remember the place he used to attend school, or where he used to eat. Those places were all just broken buildings in his mind, nameless, featureless walls. Every person he tried to remember were just bodies devoid of faces, stripped of their names. They were nothing more to him now than feelings he used to know.

Safety. Freedom. Bravery. Strength. Intelligence... Love.

They were all just empty words now, accompanied in his dreams by empty bodies. Empty promises and shattered hopes. He could see their bodies, but not their faces. Nothing that made them human. He had nightmares about their voices, their gentility. He only remembers glances of them, brief instances that he spent with them... But he had no idea who they were now. He had no idea if he'd ever see them again, whoever they were.

Now the only people he knew were the Hydra agents tasked with keeping him here, the unnamed Doctor, the undead man with the burnt face, and the faceless man with the metal arm that he tended to hallucinate. 

He had no idea how long he'd been here, in this crumbling underground prison of his. He watched the numbers on the calendar change, each day marked out with a red 'X' but after the first two months, he lost track of how many 'X's there were. All he knew was that the calendar said октября. He still didn't speak Russian, but he was picking up on simpler words, and that word meant 'October'.

Which meant that to anyone still keeping track, Peter Parker had been missing for six months.

 

The only people that were truly paying attention to how long Peter had been missing now, were the Hydra agents, and everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. who was tasked with finding him. Half of the Agents were ready to give up, knowing that they'd probably never again find the boy in question... And the other half knew that if they didn't find him, then it would be hell for everyone involved.

 

Steve had reverted back into Captain America. The burden of the stripes followed him everywhere he went, from the conference rooms to the bathroom. He wasn't Steve anymore, not really. Peter had been taken from him, he and Bucky haven't gotten a single chance to think about planning their wedding and Nat's been so buried in the work she doesn't even come home anymore. The weight of being the Captain, the leader, the soldier... It was taking a toll on whatever emotional strength Steve still had inside of him.

He was the one arranging the missions to search for Peter. The one at all the debriefings. The one writing all the reports. He was the one still reporting for missions and debriefings for things that had nothing to do with Peter in the slightest. He wasn't free anymore, not that he ever really was, to begin with. But now he liked it. He enjoyed the distraction from the thoughts that Peter may really be gone for good.

 

Nat had taken to going on missions around the world, Clint and Sam in tow. She was fighting tooth and nail for any possible information on her boy, but if anyone had it, they weren't willing to share. She's been fighting so long she thinks the blood of the Hydra agents she's killed will be permanently crusted on her hands. Clint and Sam are both following in her footsteps, despite both of them giving up the hope in finding the boy on their quest.

They never stayed anywhere longer than they needed to. Aside from hunting down Hydra, Nat's time was spent maintaining her weapons and occasionally phoning the boys back home, maybe once a week or so. She didn't want to see them now, as she'd only be reminded of what they were missing. She saw a lot of James in the boy physically, but in spirit, he was all Steve.

 

Tony had been working in the lab non-stop, using his AI's to search the globe for the boy. At this point he was getting so desperate he started debating if he should send a distress signal up to Asgard for help in finding Peter. He knows they could cover more distance out in space if they had assistance from someone that could freely travel through space.

He was exhausted, but nothing would put him off of the path of looking for Peter. Not the lack of sleep, or the fact that Bruce had been sneaking away from him sometimes. What he was doing at this point, Tony didn't care. Nothing mattered more to him now than finding Peter, and the woman that put him in his care in the first place.

 

And then there was Bucky. He was doing a little of everything. He was going on missions, leading the search, sitting through debriefings and interviews, filling out reports and writing weapons logs. He was keeping all of his own weapons cleaned and his arm well-maintained with the use of Peter's toolbox... Despite how everyone else is doing, they all think he's doing far worse... And they're right. But he would never let them see that.

When he was home, he spent a lot of time in Peter's bedroom. Mostly he was just dusting and keeping everything tidy and in working order while the boy was away. He did the same for the apartment he shared with Steve, training Rebecca in the process. The pup followed Bucky's every move and was also in the middle of training to be a support animal. Nobody batted an eye when the man with the metal arm came in with his small dog in arms, quietly asking how much it would cost to have her trained the way he needed.

It was the first instance that nobody had stared.


	54. fifty-four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is given the means to escape, they just aren't ideal. (Part 1)
> 
> TW: gore(?), self-mutilation, technical non-con acts

Peter's first real instance of human interaction came to him this morning when the small crawlspace sized door of his cell slid open and he was beckoned out of it. He crawled on his belly through the small space and was carefully pulled to his feet by the undead man with the burned face. He was ushered through a set of doors and then down a long hallway.

Peter didn't dare to ask any kind of questions, fearing that the gun in the man's hands would be turned on him if he did so much as breathe too loudly. Despite all the time he's spent here, he's still so deathly afraid that he'll never make it out.

He wanted to see the sunlight again. He wanted to smell the fresh air. He wanted to be free.

The burned man led him through another set of doors and into a room, empty of everything except for a metal table and a chair. He looked up at the man but was forced to sit down in the chair. He bit back the questions on his tongue as he looked over the table. On top of it was a large cloth, folded over something he couldn't see yet.

The man then unfolded it for him and stood on the other side of the table. On the cloth were various objects, ranging from a scalpel to a lighter. Peter furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Do you wanna keep sleeping in a box, Parker?"

Peter quickly shook his head rather than speaking. He didn't trust his voice or the armed man across from him. The man just smirked and sat his gun down on the table, nodding his head all the while.

"Then prove that you know how to follow orders, Parker. Pick up the lighter." The man leaned on the table, waiting.

Peter did as he was told and reached out with a shaking hand, wrapping his thin fingers around the cold lighter. He pulled it close to himself and held it close to him, waiting to see if the man would tell him what he was meant to do with it.

The man then sighed. "I want you to burn your elbow, Parker. I don't care which one, but I want it done _now_."

With shaking hands and fingers, he lit the lighter and brought it to his left elbow, only barely wincing as the flame tickled his skin. He assumed he was meant to hold it there until he was told to quit. He held it there, easily and readily obeying. And when the man told him to quit, he put the lighter right back from where he grabbed it from. The man seemed pleased and smiled, a cruel, evil smile.

"My name is Rumlow. You may know me from the news as Crossbones. You can call me either, but _only_ when we're alone like this, do you understand, Parker?"

Peter nodded and the man, Rumlow, continued.

"I'm sure you have questions, so I'll answer the basics. As I'm sure you know, you're in an underground Hydra base at an undisclosed location. The fact that you led your... Family, here. Means that you know where we are anyways so there's no point in the formalities. You were tricked and lied to by people you trusted, they work for us. I won't tell you who, because on the very slim chance that you ever leave here, we don't want you running your mouth."

Rumlow sighs and pulls out a chair, sitting on it and crossing his arms. "As for my face, that happened when your pops dropped a building on it... Why are we keeping you here? Even I don't know anymore. I'm not sure how much longer they can keep you the way they have, you clearly don't know anything. Personally, I want you to suffer. And that's what they brought me in for. To hurt you... But I'm not gonna hurt you, Parker." Rumlow leaned forward. " _You're_ going to hurt you."

Rumlow instructed him to pick up the scalpel and make a long slice across his palm, and he did, listening to the man talk all the while.

"You really are good at taking orders, Parker. Granted you needed some motivation, but here you are, obeying like a good little soldier. Just like your dad."

Peter looked up when he was told to put the scalpel down and saw his hallucination of the man with the metal arm standing behind Rumlow. He didn't say anything for a long minute, and his hair was in his face. He just stood there behind the man like a shadow, a ghost. He clenched his metal fist and his whole arm shifted. The gears ground together and made an uncomfortable sound.

Then he looked up. "He's going to ask you to kill yourself, eventually. He'll tell you it's the only way you'll be free again." He took a step forward and placed a metal finger against Rumlow's jugular. "Or, you can use the scalpel right here. Jam it in there as hard as you can. He'll have two minutes, maybe three."

Mentally he protested that he doesn't have the strength for that kind of attack, and the man agreed as Peter followed another order of taking a small needle and stabbing it into his arm. Rumlow asked him to put several more needles into the same space on his arm before telling him they could be removed. He stood and made his way around the table.

"You want to earn some slack, don't you Parker? Maybe you want to eat a meal while it's hot? Take a shower? Get a haircut? Maybe you want the chance to be dressed in something warmer than a paper dress? Sleep somewhere other than a box?"

Peter was nodding along to the man's words, ignoring the way his head was being petted. He wanted those things. He didn't want to sleep in a box anymore.

"And you'll do whatever it takes to earn some of those things, won't you, Parker?"

Again, Peter nodded, not entirely sure what the man was suggesting.

Rumlow seemed to like Peter's willingness so far, so he made Peter a promise, telling him that he could have any two of the things that were just listed off to him if he could do one simple thing. Peter nodded, desperately wanting a hot meal and a shower. Rumlow smirked, the burned skin of his face stretching in an ugly, unnatural way.

"Then I want you to be good for me, and get down on your knees."

A look of realization came across Peter's face as it suddenly dawned on him what it was that Rumlow wanted from him right now. He wanted Peter to trade sexual acts and self-mutilation for a tiny sliver of human treatment? If he didn't take it, the punishment would be bad, he was sure... So wordlessly, he slid out of his chair and onto his fragile, bony knees.

Rumlow seemed pleased but made no move to help with the removal of his pants or belt. He did instruct Peter to take the belt all the way off and hand it to him though. Peter did as he was told and handed the man his belt before undoing his cargo pants and pulling them down some.

"And don't be lazy. If you want a reward, you have to earn it." He snapped as he put his hands on his hips.

Peter replied with a simple _'Yes sir'_ before he took the older man's length into his mouth. Peter made a show of deepthroating the man as far as he could manage, and then some. Rumlow's only response was the occasional grunt and then grabbing Peter's head to keep pushing the boy farther down on the length of his cock.

Peter always had the option to pretend that this man wasn't just asking him to slice himself open for amusement, but he didn't see the point. He didn't know anyone outside of here other than the metal-armed man from inside his head. For some reason, it felt wrong even think about imagining the metal-armed man in his position.

But Peter behaved, and he gave it his all. When the man made him swallow his load, he figured that would be the worst of this for now. Rumlow made him stand and bound his hands together with his own belt, probably to act as some kind of lead for the boy.

"Choose your rewards."

Peter didn't even have to think about it. Quietly, with his head down, he asked for a hot meal and a bath. Rumlow just nodded his head before grabbing his gun from the table and leading the weak boy back out of the room. This time, they turned to the other end of the hallway, took a small flight of steps upwards and down another long hallway before stopping at a thick metal door.

Rumlow pushed it open and the inside looked like a perfectly decent bedroom. It had a soft bed that Peter longed to sleep in, but that's not what he chose. Not now. He was more worried about satisfying the never-ending hunger inside of him. So when the man pushed him to sit in a chair, he didn't question it and didn't move.

He was determined to earn some freedom, no matter what it took.


	55. fifty-five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is given the means to escape, they just aren't ideal. (part 2)
> 
> TW: gore, self-mutilation, non-con (r*pe) and also relatively detailed smut.

Peter was silent as a hot plate of rice and sausage was sat on the table in front of him. He awaited Rumlow's permission to eat, and as soon as he had it, he dug into it. His body wasn't used to food this good. He'd been eating cold grits every day for at least a month, so this was a treat. Rumlow ate across from him in silence, just watching the boy.

Rumlow was finished before him, and as soon as he finished eating his plate was taken away from him. Rumlow pointed him to the bathroom door and says that the shower doesn't work so he'll have to take a bath. He didn't question it and stood.

Rumlow told him to go ahead and start the water, and the boy managed to do so with his hands still bound with the belt. Just as he was wondering how he'd get his gown off, the door behind him opened and closed and when he turned he was face-to-face with Crossbones... Well, face to chest anyways. He was told to turn around and he did.

He felt Rumlow's fingers undoing the ties on his gown before it was totally pulled away from his body and tossed to the floor, leaving him naked except for the underwear that were now too big for his thin frame... And then Rumlow pushed those down his legs and he was exposed to the bad guy and his hands were still bound.

Rumlow seemed uninterested and told Peter to get into the water. Peter made the mistake of asking if he would be unbound so he could bathe and Rumlow backhanded him like he was the stupidest motherfucker on Earth. He apologized for asking before getting into the hot bath water, hands still together in front of him.

Rumlow was interested in this boy before him. Not because he gave a damn about the kid, but because he'd been under Captain America's wings for so long he turned goody-two-shoes. Well, he wanted to see the Captain suffer, and what better way to accomplish that than to torture the boy he claimed as his own?

He was interested in him for another reason, again, not because he cared, but because there was a serious lack of females on base, and Peter happened to like dick. That, and he was given a new mission. Since Deadpool's DNA wasn't working, and Rumlow was now a successful experiment, then he would serve as the replacement.

It had been easy enough so far to trick the boy into trading himself for his own rewards that doing the rest should be easy.

Rumlow watched as the boy grabbed a bar of soap from the edge of the tub. With his clumsy self and the shakes, it wasn't hard for the boy to drop the soap right into his lap. He reached right into the boy's lap but totally bypassed the soap, instead just settling for wrapping his hand around the boy's dick. This was the only attention it'd had in months, so it was no surprise when it became erect in his hand.

Peter's cheeks flushed and he tried to shift away, asking him, _'What are you doing?'_. He paid no mind to the boy trying to wiggle away from his touch. He was in a small tub, there was nowhere to go.

"Listen, Parker. If you shut up and let me touch you, you can have a third reward of my choosing. Maybe a warm bed? Shoes?"

The spiderling tried to scoot away again but was already backed up into a wall, and with Rumlow blocking the only way out of the tub, there was really nowhere to escape to. Rumlow reached out and grabbed onto the boy's greasy, shoulder-length hair and pulled, leaving a near blissed-out expression on Peter's face.

With a smirk, the man pulled again, only he didn't let up. He opted for pulling enough that Peter leaned back to lessen said pull, and he pulled until Peter's head was in the water. All the while, Rumlow was still stroking the boy as he whimpered and fought, thinking he'd be drowned otherwise.

Rumlow let the boy up when his hair was completely soaked through, but he didn't stop touching him, now reaching down past his balls to prod at the boy's puckered hole. The boy squirmed, but once his hair was pulled again he was momentarily compliant.

Rumlow pulled his hand away from the boy's ass, only to grab him around the waist and lift him from the tub. Peter wiggled in the man's grasp but earned a harsh slap on the ass. He decided to just hold still and take whatever was going to happen. If it would be his ticket out of here, it didn't really matter.

Rumlow tossed the small boy onto the small bed and stared back into Peter's wide eyes. How to break a soul? A mind? Start with the body of course, and the rest will follow. He leaned over the child before him, because that's what he was, a child, and smirked. He grabbed the boy's jaw and leaned in close.

"You're gonna be a good boy and let me have what I want, right Parker? And, you should think twice before saying no, because I have authorization to kill you if I have to."

Peter nodded as best as he could with the tight grip on his jaw. Rumlow used one hand to undo his pants again, letting them drop to his knees. He pushed Peter's knees up to his chest, and without a care for how much it may hurt Peter, began to push inside of him. Peter cried out at the pain and the burn of the stretch. Rumlow wasn't exactly small, and this was agony for Peter's fragile body.

The spy didn't care, Peter's pain just made him laugh. He promised that he was _'going to do what that 3rd degree motherfucker could never do'_. Peter's pained cries got to be loud enough that Rumlow grabbed the closest thing he could use to shut the boy up. A pillow. He kept it over Peter's face while he sobbed. Peter knew there would be no point in calling for help- nobody would come. Nobody cared.

There would be no end to this until Rumlow decided it was supposed to be over. That time didn't come fast enough, and neither did Rumlow. This was one of those moments where Peter wished the man above him would put more pressure on the pillow and just end his fucking suffering.

 

The next morning, Peter was pulled from his cell once again and led back to the room with the tools. Again, he was told what to use and what to do with them and once again the imaginary man with the metal arm was there, suggesting different ways to kill Rumlow and escape... There were over 200 men down here, and God knows how many floors were really above him.

Even if he escaped Rumlow, there was no promise that he would make it all the way out. Not by himself. In order to escape here, he'd need the masked man they called Deadpool. Peter had been wondering what'd happened to the man since they'd seen one another last. He knew the man had tried to save him once. He desperately wished that he'd let him break them out.

He glanced to the man with the arm, who reminded him that the man couldn't die. He'd make a poor shield, the bullets they had would go through him easily, but he'd do everything in his power to get Peter to the surface... He just needed to know where they were keeping him.

"Mr. Rumlow... What would I have to do to get extra special priviledges?"

The assassin across from him looked more than intruiged at the question and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "What kind of privileges?"

Peter knew how to play the game. He rose from his chair, not missing the way that the assassin tipped his gun towards him, and slid over to the other man. He straddled the man's lap and as seductively as he could, said, "I want to see what they're doing to the masked man."

Rumlow smirked and slid his hands up Peter's thighs. "That one's going to cost you at least three days worth of hurt for you, Parker. How bad do you want to see?"

Peter didn't miss the way the man's grip on his gun relaxed, or the way that the man pulled him closer. The metal-armed man stood in the corner, chuckling as he watched the scene before him.

"He's a spy... It won't take him long to figure out your game. You're going to have to be a really good actor, паук." That last word, spider, was the first word out of his hallucination's mouth that didn't sound like a monotone recording. Was he remembering? He didn't think so. Every day he strayed farther from whoever he used to be, but this was a tactic taught to him by Natasha, not that he remembered her.

He knew that if he had a chance of getting out, he needed to find that man, that Deadpool. The line of a Michael Jackson song from his childhood made it's way into his thoughts, and he knew that it was the thought he needed to hold onto. It was the mentality that would earn him his freedom one day.

So when Rumlow grabbed his butt and handed him a knife, he waited for instructions like the obidiant boy he thought he was pretending to be. He was given instructions, and he obeyed them. He dragged the knife across the skin of his shoulder roughly and agonizingly slow, not once, but four times. The pain dragged little whimpers from his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Peter was told to stand and clean the knife before putting it back down, and he did so without question. He heard a zipper and glanced over to see it was Rumlow unzipping his pants and Peter could still feel the ache in his ass and thighs from what happened last night and he wasn't sure he could handle that again so quickly, but if he wanted to survive, he had to adapt.

So Peter grabbed the next instrument he was meant to grab, a small scalpel in his left hand, and sat back down on the man's lap as he was told. He purposefully pushed his ass against Rumlow's hardening cock with a smirk.

Rumlow took the scalpel from Peter and used it to cut away the hospital gown the boy wore before pulling Peter's oversized underwear to the side. Peter braced himself by grabbing onto the assassin's shoulders, hissing once again at the less than gentle penetration. While the boy was distracted, Rumlow digged the scalpel into his skin, dragging it along the underside of his collarbone.

Peter cried out. Maybe pain was pleasurable, but not like this it wasn't. This was horrible, the blood trickling down his chest. The burns from so long ago, now bleeding from yet another wound that wouldn't heal.

 

When he was pushed into his cell that night, the cold overtook him... Some thought in his mind appeared, information from a class he once attended. Somehow he knew that his wounds would not heal in the slightest in the cold, and here they were open to being infected. He was never given the means to dress his wounds, so they would remained opened and damaged, paining him with every breath he took.

He curled up in a corner, the metal-armed man sitting in the one across from him, and he cried.


	56. fifty-six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is a tragedy.
> 
> A shorter filler as I've been up all night because my boyfriend is indecisive and decided he wanted to stay up.
> 
> Either way, 3 days in and I've technically put out a chapter a day so far! Let's hope I can keep this up for a little bit.

Gravel kicked up as Bucky marched across the abandoned lot. With his mask settled on his face, he was a man ready to get answers no matter what it took to get them. He was going to go through those doors and kill anyone who kept the answers from him. It'd been months and he was tired of not knowing.

He was a man on a mission.

Grabbing onto the handle of the metal door, he yanked with all of the strength that he could manage and pulled the door off of the hinges, effectively rendering the locks on the inside as useless as the people. He heard yelling in the Soldier's native tongue and then screaming the moment he came through the door.

One look at the light reflecting off of his arm and they knew they wouldn't survive a run-in with the man. Most of these men had grown up on stories of the man before them, but they knew of him as nothing more than an old legend, a tale the higher-ups would tell the trainees to make them behave. He was a ghost story, a myth.

More of the Senior Agents saw the man first and were terrified... Not because of an intruder, or their impending deaths... They were afraid because this was their Soldier, their _Project_. This was the man they'd taken from the snow come back to haunt him. The soldier that was still at war.

Before them was the man they'd plucked from a ravine and picked for a project he never knew existed. They tormented him, sawed off what was left of his arm and attached a brand new titanium one. They took him away from whatever second chance at life he could have had after the war and turned him into a machine, a weapon.

He was never theirs. He was once someone's son, someone's brother, someone's lover. They stole him away, and it was no accident. Zola wanted him the moment he was on their base. All of the others disappointed him, they failed the experimentation. This one was the only successful subject at the time, and here he was, 77 years after his first encounter with Hydra, and he was ready to kill, just like he'd been trained.

They didn't know if he was alone or if he had a team, but they all knew that either way, his skill set already made him worse than any army out there. He would have no mercy, and there would be no survivors.

 

When Steve finally caught onto Bucky's trail, he'd already been gone for several hours. When he made it onto the lot, he could clearly see that the door was not where it was meant to be, instead, laying right outside of the doorway. Carefully blocking his chest with his shield, he made his way inside.

_It was chaos._

The bodies of Hydra agents were strewn all across the main room. Steve had to step over several to even get to the hallway that led to the rest of the building. He only tried to check the pulse of two, but he gave up on that, knowing that with the state that Bucky was in now, there would be no survivors.

Steve was strangely okay with that, knowing that any one of these assholes might know Peter's location. Steve didn't know how many people in the building were still alive and he worried he was too late to save any possible survivors... But these were Hydra agents, he didn't want to save them anyways.

Rescuing people was so deeply ingrained into Steve's mind that he spared the bad guys. He didn't really kill unless he needed to. There was always someone else to do the dirty work. Steve had his strategies, everyone else was good with the _on-the-fly_ shit.

He swept over the bottom floor before slowly and silently making his way up a flight of bloodied metal stairs. With his shield still raised, he rounded a corner. Somewhere not far off he could hear quiet grunting and cursing. He furrowed his brows and advanced farther down the hallway.

He rounded another corner but stopped short. Just across the open space in front of him was Bucky over the body of an agent. He was holding a large knife and every few seconds, he would raise it and plunge it deep into the agent's chest... The only problem was, that agent looked way past dead.

Steve hung his shield on his back and stepped out into the open space, slowly making his way towards Bucky. He gently called his lover's name as he inched closer, trying to gauge any reaction he might get from the man. He didn't get one, as the man before him was far too indulged in repeatedly stabbing the everloving fuck out of the agent beneath him.

On Bucky's next lift and preparation to stab, Steve grabbed onto his arm. "Bucky! Bucky, look, he's dead! Stop, look! "

He watched as the wide-eyed brunette looked down at the man beneath him and let out a breath, slowly lowering his arm. He wiped the bloodied blade on the sleeve of his shirt and returned the knife to its holster as he stood. "Let's go."

 

Steve followed Bucky, just like he always had. Except for this time he was much farther back than he'd ever been before. To tell the truth, he was afraid, not for himself, but for Bucky. He saw what Bucky'd been doing, and God only knows how long he'd been doing it before Steve showed up.

Even now, from eight feet behind and only a view of the man's back, Steve could tell that Bucky was fuming. His shoulders were squared, and he wasn't presently worried about the blood covering his hands and his knees. His breaths were long and heavy as he quickly walked ahead, assuming that Steve was following.

Once they reached the privacy of the Quinjet that Steve brought, he sighed and sat his shield down. "How did you get here?"

Bucky didn't answer. Instead, he just sat.

"Did you find anything out?" Steve knelt down close to Bucky and placed a tentative hand on the man's shaking shoulder.

Bucky's words were like a violent punch to the face. "Rumlow is alive."

Steve remembered the last time he saw the man and his scarred face. _'You know, he knew you. Your pal, your buddy, your Bucky.'_

"He's alive, and he's at the same base that they're keeping Peter." Bucky's eyes were wide, filled with rage and terror and sadness all at once. Steve didn't blame him. Brock Rumlow was one of the men that was there when Bucky was being tortured. Steve was once able to piece that together after Bucky had awoken from a nightmare, shouting something about a skull and crossbones.

"Bucky..."

"No, _no_! No, if he's there, it means they were able to save him, and he's there with Peter... And if he's there, then God knows what they've done to him, if he's even still alive..." Bucky was becoming erratic, and again, Steve didn't blame him. But he needed to try and calm down, as he was getting dangerously close to another strong outburst.

In the back of Steve's mind, he could hear Rumlow's voice again. _'He remembered you. I was there; he got all weepy about it. Until we put his brain back in the blender.'_

"Bucky, I don't want to have to try and sedate you again, so you need to calm down. You need to breathe."

Bucky carded his bloody fingers through his long hair. _"He was right under our noses!"_

Steve scooted closer, curling his wide body into itself as he sat at Bucky's feet. "What are you talking about?"

Bucky looked up from the floor and held eye contact with Steve for a long moment before he spoke again. His voice was quivering and he hated it, but it had to be said. "Peter's clues were right... And we were there... And he was right below us. The whole time, he was there and we just left him."

Steve touched Bucky's cheek to distract him. "Buck, baby, look at me... We know where he is now, and we can go get him, and we can bring him home."

Bucky nodded, hands over Steve's. "We can bring him home."


	57. fifty-seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> even after months of torture, Peter Parker still has such a big heart.
> 
> a really really small one because it's 9 in the morning and I've been up since 8 yesterday morning and I'm exhausted but I'd feel bad if I didn't get something out quickly.

Standing outside of the room for as long as they did seemed like some kind of formality like they were waiting for some kind of invitation into whatever kind of torture chamber was on the other side of the door. Inside there was cursing and the occasional scream, but nothing more. Peter's once heightened senses were failing him now, so if there were any other noises inside, he couldn't tell.

He'd served his days of torture for this, to see the man on the other side of the door. He got no rewards, no warm food, hell, no food. Rumlow had been starving him since he asked to see the man. He hoped going in there would be worth it.

"I want to speak with him alone." He said quietly, which earned him a yank on his hair. He didn't make a sound at the pain, just closed his eyes.

Rumlow seemed almost pleased with the reaction and smacked the boy right on the open wounds on his shoulder. "That will cost you tremendously, I hope you know..."

And Peter just nodded because of course he knew. Everything here came with a price down here, and for some reason, this felt like something he needed to pay for. This was something he needed to do. The metal-armed man was leaning against the wall beside the door, glancing up at Peter through his hair.

"Don't suppose you'd try and keep me out," he said, and all Peter did was let out a short breath of air through his nose. Of course, he couldn't keep him out, he was inside his head after all. This hallucination was the only person that treated him like a person, and he wasn't even a person at all. But he remembered things that Peter didn't. The man was a part of his subconscious, the only thing protecting his memories. When they spoke, he'd only tell Peter little bits at a time, and then he'd go quiet.

The man had a name though, an identity. He'd heard the man talking to himself once and after he'd been caught he explained that Peter knew what he was saying because he'd heard it before. The man didn't know anything that Peter didn't know. He'd remembered, only briefly, that it was what soldiers were trained to do under torture. They were required to give their captors their name, rank, and serial number.

Even though it didn't belong to him, Peter had taken to using it too. Some days it was the only coherent thought that he had.

Rumlow had released his hair and taken a step back. The man with the arm was repeating himself again, that same phrase. The one that kept them both sane inside of this hell. "Barnes... James Buchanan... Sergeant... 3... 2... 5... 5..."

He cut off when the door opened. Peter could tell that he was worried by how slowly he was repeating himself. This was not a good day for them. An Agent stepped out of the room and Rumlow pushed Peter through the door.

"You have ten minutes." Was all he said before he slammed the door closed.

Peter turned around and there on the floor was a scarred man, staring up at him with wide eyes.

 

Wade was shocked to see Peter in front of him. He hadn't seen Peter since he tried to break him out of here. He could easily see how thin the boy was, and the open wounds covering him weren't hard to spot either. The sight of the boy made him shake with anger.

"What the hell have they done to you?" He seethed as the boy came closer. His face was sunken in, he was pale... Wade was surprised that the boy's legs could even carry him in the first place. He almost looked like a corpse.

Despite his arms being in chains that hung from the wall, he tried to reach out to touch the boy. The boy flinched a little at the sudden movement and Wade apologized for startling him.

"What are you doing here?"

Peter's voice was broken, as cracked as his lips were. "Do you know me?"

Wade's heart dropped. The boy in front of him, so beaten and badly broken that he didn't even know who he was anymore, was asking him for help and he was chained to a fucking wall. All the time he's been dying and coming back, Peter's been suffering.

"Yeah, Petey, I do know you."

The boy's voice shook. "I don't."

Knowing now that the boy really didn't know himself, who he is, who he used to be, made Wade angrier than he'd ever been.

"Something... I think I was supposed to come to you, I... Remember how you tried to save me... We need to get out of here..." He said quietly, glancing around like he was afraid something would happen at any moment, and it very well could.

He needed out of these cuffs. This was the first real moment he'd been without an Agent in his room, so maybe now he could make his escape and save his baby boy from this hell. He pulled, twisting and shaking his arm to try and get his hand through it. He knew that Peter had some kind of strength, but right now he probably wouldn't be able to use it. Judging by his wounds, he knew that they were doing something to keep him from healing.

"Why are you here, Peter? Why did you come for me?" He asked desperately. Every moment that Peter was here was another moment he could be using to escape. The boy shook his head.

"I can't leave without you... I don't want to and, I-I know you're a lot stronger than I am, you're more likely to get out than I am."

He nodded and asked the boy to pull as hard as he could manage on one of the chains. The boy put all of the effort he could into pulling the chain, and it creaked and pulled. Wade put his weight into it and after a minute of their combined strengths, a brick holding the chain to the wall came clear free from the concrete. He reached out and pulled the boy close.

 

"I won't let them hurt you anymore. I'll get you out of here."


	58. fifty-eight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brock Rumlow is in for a world of hurt.
> 
> so today is my 10 month anniversary with my boyfriend? time really does fly. this has put me in a good mood so this is a little longer, but also out at the last minute, it is literally 11:53 for me.

During the flight to the place that Peter was being held, Bucky sat curled into himself on the floor, Nat was cleaning her guns, and Tony was pacing. Wanda was sat down near Bucky and Rhodey was watching Tony pace. Clint was sitting next to Nat and Sam was helping Steve to pilot.

Scott was sitting next to Rhodey, and Vision sat beside Scott. Steve, to everyone's surprise, was sporting not one, but three weapons. Strapped to his thigh was a large knife, in a shoulder holster was a pistol, and in his hands was a large assault rifle. Nobody wanted to ask if he actually knew how to use it.

Bucky and Nat were both sporting more weapons than usual. This was their son and they were not about to arrive short-stocked on weapons and risk losing the boy forever.

The air inside the Quinjet was thick, tense. Everyone inside had the same thought, but nobody wanted to vocalize it. They were all sure that they'd find Peter, but their one collective thought was, _'Will we find him alive?'_

Nat swears she's never seen Steve look so tense. He wasn't even this tense when Peter's web fluid exploded in the living room and stuck him and Bucky to the couch.

The first time during the ride that Bucky speaks, he easily depresses everyone within earshot. "We missed his birthday..."

Scott furrows his brows. "Your son's birthday?"

Nat nods, "Yes... It was in August... He turned seventeen."

Scott's heart breaks for the four parents of this boy, and for the boy himself. He's been kidnapped and probably horribly tortured. Even on top of that, he spent his birthday surrounded by Hydra agents with guns. He knows he'd go to the ends of the Earth to kill anyone that laid a hand on Cassie.

Maybe he didn't like killing people, but today he wouldn't say a damn word if everyone else in this jet murdered every single asshole on the inside. These were the Avengers, and their youngest member, their friend, their son, was in danger.

And they were going to get him back.

 

Inside the Hydra base, on the very bottom basement floor, Wade and Peter were working on trying to escape. Their only other help was the imaginary James inside of Peter's head.

He only knew so much though, because Peter only knew so much. So far, Peter had managed to sneak them down two hallways and into the room where Rumlow would keep him every day. 

Wade looked over the table and saw the crusted blood on the tools and began fuming as he gathered them. This was all he had so far in the way of getting Peter out of here, and he was gonna fucking take it.

They needed to be quick if they were going to get any kind of head start on Rumlow. Wade urged Peter to hold onto the back of his hospital gown as they continued on, so he could keep him shielded and he wouldn't fall behind.

He was determined to finally get Peter out of here. He should have done it months ago. He should have come right back to Peter after their last failed attempt at escape. He should never have let this happen in the first place, God, how could he be so stupid?

Peter looked to James as he walked alongside him. "You're only going to be able to get through so many of these guys before the rest figure out what's going on."

Peter knew. Of course Peter knew. It seemed like there were men in every hallway, so it was only a matter of time before they ran into one. When they did come upon the first one though, Wade made quick work of plunging the longer knife into the base of the man's neck. He dropped to the ground and they stepped over him as they went.

Wade managed to take care of three or four more agents without a problem... And then the alarms went off. The loud noise and bright lights sent Peter into a panic and Wade told him to cover his ears.

"Trust me, Peter! I will get you out of here!" And Peter did as he was told. Right now he didn't have any other option than to trust this man in front of him, but somewhere deep inside of him he knew that they wouldn't be escaping right now if Peter didn't already trust him before all of this.

This man was risking his... Life? To make sure that he was going to get out safely, and if they did make it out of here, he would owe this man his life... However much longer it may last.

 

It was a blur of fighting and gunshots as the team made their way past the hidden door and down into the lower levels. Vision revealed that there were actually two more levels below them still and Steve cursed, muttering something about _fucking Hydra and their overcomplicated bases_.

Bucky was a different man as he fought a path through the Agents around them. He wasn't himself, it was plain to see that as of this moment, there was more of the Soldier in him than there had been in months. It would be a lie if Bucky said that having him settled just beneath the surface was a bad thing in this instance. The Soldier was the other side of him that didn't care about hurting people, and that's who he needed to be right now.

He needed to be the guy that would get the job done and mow down anyone who got in the way. He needed to finish the mission with another success. He needed to make sure that Peter got out of here alive. And if Peter was already gone, he'd blow up the whole damn building while he was still inside.

Steve followed close to Bucky and Nat followed close to Steve. Tony and Rhodey were maybe 10 steps behind and back to back while they blasted some assholes in their faces. Sam and Scott were making a great team against a group of Agents trying to escape the way they'd come in.

Wanda and Vision were fucking guys up left and right. Agents were being kicked, shot, thrown and blasted all over the place and somehow in the chaos, some of them felt oddly at peace.

 

Wade had managed to lead Peter up onto the second basement level, leaving nothing behind but a trail of Hydra bodies. Wade had managed to snag a couple of guns off of a couple of agents a little while back and it was really making all the difference. Peter was still carrying the knife and the scalpel, and when someone grabbed him from behind, he didn't hesitate to turn and stab the knife into whatever part of the Agent was closest.

The adrenaline was the only thing keeping him on his feet at this point, it was the only thing making him strong enough to do any kind of damage. He didn't have the time to be weak right now, his strength was the difference between living his life and dying.

James told him to twist the knife before pulling it out, explaining that it would do more damage that way. Two more agents approached in both directions and while Deadpool was occupied with his, Peter managed to take out both of his. By the time their bodies dropped to the floor, his hands were covered in blood.

Wade thought Peter looked exceptional while killing bad guys, but if ever there was a bad time to fantasize, it was now.

When Wade turned around, the barrel of a gun was in his face. He felt Peter grip tighter onto him in fear, but before he could get a single word out, the trigger was pulled. Peter screamed as chunks of brain and blood splattered back and covered his face. Wade's body fell, crumbling to the floor with a sickening whump.

Peter went to kneel down next to Wade's extremely dead body, but Rumlow pointed the gun at him, urging him not to move, lest he want to be shot too.

Peter held up the large knife in front of him, placing himself between Rumlow and Wade's body on the floor. Rumlow laughed, insisting that it would take him less than a second to end Peter's life.

Peter knew that he was right. A semi-automatic was much quicker than a kitchen knife and they both knew it. James was behind him whispering in his ear.

"He's not aimed to kill you... He's pointed at your legs. He'll shoot to immobilize you first... With all of the adrenaline in your body right now, you'd be able to keep going through the pain and seriously injure, if not kill him." James put his hand over Peter's to still his shaking hand.

Wade got them this far, now it was Peter's turn to get them even farther. Peter lunged forward and the sound of gunfire filled his ears. He felt a surge of pain as he lunged forward. The only open place to stab the knife in was in the leg, which was convenient because his own gave out halfway to Rumlow.

Rumlow yelled in pain and Peter heard the gun go off again. Peter whimpered at the pain before pulling the knife back again and then with high force, stabbed the knife directly into Rumlow's dick.

The man above him screamed this time before kicking the boy away. Peter fell just a couple of feet away from Wade's body. When Rumlow turned to look for help, he found himself looking directly down the barrel of a gun.

And the Soldier pulled the trigger.


	59. fifty-nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is afraid.

The gun is still raised, and Peter, having been at the end of far too many loaded guns, was stood with his hands up like he could be the next one shot. He got one look at the man in front of him, a glimpse of his metal arm and lowered his hands.

" _...James?_ "

Bucky lowered his gun just as Nat and Steve appeared behind him. With a furrowed brow he spoke. "You remember who I am?"

Peter nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact with the man in front of him. "You're the man from inside my head..."

And Bucky, standing there staring at the little boy in front of him, broken and bruised and covered in blood and beaten beyond any possible repair... He wanted to cry. He knew what it was like to be on the other end of Hydra's neverending torture. He knew what it was like to be treated like someone else for so long that you forget who you used to be. He knew what it was like to wish so desperately that someone knew him enough to bring him back.

Steve stepped around Bucky and took another step towards Peter who stepped back so quickly he collided with the wall behind him. Bucky grabbed onto Steve's arm and pulled him back so he was once again standing behind him with Nat.

"It's okay Peter, he's not going to hurt you. You're going to be okay now." He said softly as he took another tentative step towards Peter. This time the boy didn't move, instead very slowly raised his hands to reach out to the only form of safety he thought he knew.

Bucky passed his gun to Nat and reached out to the boy, letting his small fingers grab onto his metal arm and latch onto his vest. The boy felt much too small in his arms, and he was afraid to hold him too tightly lest he injure the boy farther.

The clanking of a familiar suit filled their ears and Peter looked around in terror before Tony appeared at the bottom of the stairs. His helmet opened and Peter screamed and hid his face in Bucky's chest. Tony tried to talk, but it just sent Peter farther into a panic before Nat dragged him back up the stairs, just far enough to be out of Peter's line of sight.

"Hey, Peter, you're okay, he's not gonna hurt you."

Peter was almost in hysterics, saying something along the lines of, "They said he did this to me!"

Steve and Bucky shared a look before glancing back to Nat on the stairs. "Peter, who said?"

The boy looked up, terror and tears evident in his eyes. "They... He said that this is what he wanted..."

Steve shook his head again before speaking in what may be the softest tone he'd had in months. "Peter, who said that?"

The poor boy looked up to Bucky as a way of double checking that the man in the flag was a good guy, and only after getting a nod in return did he say, "The man with the glowing eyes."

 

Even on the Quinjet, Peter didn't want Tony to come anywhere near him, and he seemed to overwhelmed by all of these people. He didn't want anyone other than Bucky coming close to him, which was a problem because he wasn't the guy that could bandage him up in the slightest. Not in the way that he needed. No Peter needed a real doctor, and Strange had already been alerted to what was going on and said that he could meet them once they returned.

Peter was being very defensive, not just of himself, but of the scarred and unresponsive Deadpool that he refused to leave without. When they tried to lead him out, he fought and protested that he wouldn't leave without the man that was helping him escape, even if he didn't remember who he was.

In the end, Steve begrudgingly agreed to carry the man out and into the jet. They knew that Wade would heal on his own eventually, it was just a matter of time before he came back. Peter just sat there, curled up in a corner with Wade's body laying on the ground in front of him.

From the front of the jet, Bucky called out his name, asking him if he wanted to see all of the wildflowers below them, saying that they could land if he wanted to get out and see them. Peter breaks their heart when he says that he hasn't been outside since he went in. Bucky quietly asks Sam and Rhodey to land so he could take Peter outside.

As gently as possible, they land and open the hatch. Peter feels blinded by the sunlight and can't help but cover his eyes. Bucky helps him off of the floor and holds his hand as they exit the jet and step down into an empty field of flowers and butterflies.

Peter looks like he's never seen anything so beautiful, and as far as he can remember, he hasn't. "Do we have fields like this where we live?"

Bucky shakes his head, "Not exactly where we live, but if you want, we can pick some flowers and plant their seeds in our yard when we get back, so we can have these flowers there, how about that?"

Peter nods and gives him a very soft smile. Bucky felt his chest tighten at the fact that this boy, even after everything he's been through has it in him to smile like that. He has it in him to be so awed by some wildflowers growing in the middle of nowhere. He has it in him to be so excited about growing them at home... It's remarkable that this boy's heart is so big that he has all of this trust for him even after all he's been through.

So, he quietly picks the flowers that Peter thinks are the prettiest, and that means that he picks at least four of each flower for the boy, because he, _"Thought it would be unfair to the other flowers if he didn't take at least one of all of them home."_

There's no noise other than the birds and the wind and the sound of Bucky's boots in the grass. And it's peaceful. It's probably the nicest moment Peter's had in months, no, he knows it is just by the way Peter looks at everything. The way that he smiles when the flowers brush against his legs or when the breeze pushes his hair back or the birds chirp over his head.

 

When they finally arrive back at the Avengers base, Peter easily follows behind, keeping an eye on Wade's still lifeless body in Tony's arms. He's still wary of Tony and watching like a hawk to make sure he doesn't mistreat Wade in any way and is relieved when Tony very gently sets him down on one of the tables in the Med Bay.

Steve is in the process of leading Peter to his own table when the boy freaks out again, the metal reminding him of the table he'd been strapped to back at Hydra. Bucky comes to the boy's side and promises that he's safe here and promises that he won't leave the room if he'll just lay on the table and let their doctor bandage him up.

Peter made him promise that he wouldn't leave him alone, and he did. He kept ahold of the boy's hand, not even letting go when Strange entered the room in scrubs. Something told him that someone alerted him of the boy's state and either asked him or let him decide to take the time to look as normal as possible.

"Hello, Peter. My name is Doctor Stephen Strange, and I'm here to care for your wounds, okay?" Strange was being incredibly gentle, which was something Bucky wasn't sure he knew how to do before now. But Strange was no idiot, he knew that this boy was very fragile at the moment.

Peter chewed his lip before responding, "All of them?"

Strange chuckled very softly, "Yes, Peter, preferably I'll be tending to all of your wounds. Your body isn't healing you very quickly, and that's what I'm here to help with."

Peter nodded before slowly sitting up, the pain obvious on his face. Strange asked what he was doing and he said that he couldn't lay down if he was meant to get them all taken care of, which meant he'd been putting more pressure on them than they could handle and Stephen helped him to stand up.

 

And when the boy let his bloodied hospital gown fall, there was a collective gasp at his wounds. He was covered head to toe and sporting two brand-new bullet wounds.

 

And he never said a single word.


	60. sixty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter doesn't realize just how much he left behind when he went away, and he's just now starting to see what his life was like before.
> 
> also, I kinda wanna start taking prompts or whatever and posting little one chapter drabbles for you guys, if you'd be interested?

Three days after Peter's rescue, he's sitting in the living area of the Avenger's base with Wanda and reading a book. He thinks that she's nice. She reads to him and lets him help her cook. She even shows him her magic every time he asks. They've bonded over the whole, _I was tortured by Hydra_ thing.

He doesn't get to move much considering that just a little over half of his body is covered in stitches and bandages. Mr. Doctor Strange has had him on some pretty powerful painkillers for the last couple of days, which means he can't feel the pain.

Today they're supposed to be traveling back to the place that they live, which makes Peter a little wary because he doesn't remember what it's like there, but he wants to learn. Wanda asks him if he's ready to head down to the kitchen where Bucky is, and he nods. She very carefully helps him into his wheelchair. He asks if she can fly with her powers and she says yes. He tells her that he thinks it would be cool to fly and she uses her powers to wheel him to the kitchen.

Bucky is there roasting some kind of meat on the stove, and with him is the tall blonde named Steve. Peter thinks it might be easy to confuse the two Stephen's if they looked anything alike. This Steven was engaged to Bucky and is very nice to Peter. Next to them is Natasha, who he learned was a spy. She's also dating Bucky and Steve. He didn't really understand how that worked, but he wasn't going to judge.

Natasha heard the click of Wanda's heels and turned, smiling at them both. They really were like siblings, which made sense considering the three of them treated them both like their children. There had even once been talk of Wanda coming to live in the apartments with them once upon a time.

The offer was, of course, still on the table if she wanted it. Given her newfound connection with Peter, they imagined that she'd take the offer.

Nat stepped around the counter to greet them and Peter smiles, holding small-talk with her until his eyes are drawn to the bracelet she was wearing. He reaches up and carefully touches a finger to one of the shiny spiders. Nat crouches next to his wheelchair and allows him to keep looking at it, loving the interest he's putting into the glittering jewels.

"I... Bought this for you, right?" She nods, watching the way that Peter smiles over remembering that he gifted the bracelet to her.

He remembers seeing colorful lights and sparkly ornaments on a too-small tree, but nothing that happened around said tree. Well, nothing except a small dog and loud laughter and a pair of shiny shoes. The dog he remembered was now not so small and was standing by the counter with Bucky.

Nat stood and gently ruffled Peter's too-long hair before asking him if he was interested in having some of Bucky's stew, and he agreed with a smile. Bucky glanced over his shoulder with a smile and made up a bowl for Peter as Nat wheeled him up to a place at the table. He said a sweet thanks for Bucky as a bowl was placed in front of him.

Steve mentions that Peter used to like what had been made, and would ask Bucky to make it for him a lot. Bucky, of course, would always come through and make stew for the boy, who would usually put it in a thermos to take to school for lunch. It always made Bucky happy to know that Peter enjoyed his meals.

 

Pulling up to the multi-story apartment building, the nerves in Peter were a little bit overwhelming. He asked for the third time if they were positive that Wade was going to meet them here, and for the third time, Nat patiently agreed, saying that he should arrive shortly.

Everyone makes their way out of the car and Steve pulls Peter's wheelchair from the trunk, carefully setting it up before opening his door. Peter takes the man's hands and accepts his help in getting out of the car and into his chair. Wanda offered to push Peter up the new ramp that Steve and Sam built for him so he could access each floor of the building.

He wishes that he could do it for himself, but his arms just aren't strong enough yet. He watches as Bucky walks around the yard before asking Peter where he thinks a good place for a garden would be. Peter says that any place would be a good place for flowers, as long as there could be a lot of space for them to grow. Bucky noted that the yard wasn't much of a yard before asking what Peter thought about a regular garden for vegetables and such.

Peter thought it was a great idea to start a garden, and Bucky promised that they'd get started on that as soon as Peter ate dinner tonight and Peter smiled before allowing himself to be wheeled upstairs. He knew that everyone was being so nice to him because he didn't remember a whole lot about them or the places he'd been with them. Nervously, he asks Nat if he has windows that open in his bedroom and she said yes, without asking why.

He asked if there were any tight spaces in his room and she says no, they made sure to make sure everything seemed open and big for him because they knew he didn't like tight spaces. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

When they get to his floor, and he means his because he's currently the only one on it, he smiles up at the little spider decoration on his door. Wanda used her powers just briefly to push the door open so she could push Peter inside. He looked around in awe.

"This is... Mine?"

Steve nods from the door. "Yeah, Pete. All yours. You worked hard for this stuff."

On his desk lie a smart-watch with a scratch on the screen and an old looking mp3 player. He touches them gently, afraid that they're just a memory and aren't really there, but his fingers connect and they're real and he remembers them and he knows what they are and what they meant to him. "These are mine... The watch... Shakes?"

He looked up at the closest person, Wanda, and she nodded as she gently took it, quietly asking if it would be okay to put it on his wrist. He nods and holds it out to her and she, being the Saint that she is, pays no mind to the things already there and gently fastens the watch on. The screen lights up and displays his heart rate to him, and she quietly points to the little icons and tells him what they mean after he asks her to.

Bucky and Steve are watching with fond eyes and hearts as she treats him gently and patiently. He was still a person, and she was treating him like one. She was being calm and answering his questions to the best of her ability. When he asks where he got the mp3 player from, a voice from the door provides that he provided it.

The sudden appearance of another person is enough to make Peter jump. The last time someone snuck up on him like that he was kidnapped, and tears spring to his eyes as he turns his wheelchair.

Wade instantly apologizes as he sets a bag from Delmar's down on Peter's dresser. "I didn't mean to startle you, Petey, I'm sorry."

The scarred man looks up at Steve from under the bill of his cap and mentions something about having the light beam checked because he noticed it didn't go off when he approached and Peter ended up startled, which was the exact reason that the lights were installed in the first place, so that didn't happen.

Wade kneels next to Peter with the bag and smiles. "You told me once that this was your favorite sandwich, and I didn't want to show up empty-handed on your first day back."

Peter gently takes the bag, quietly asking if he made sure it was smushed down flat. The question brought a smile to Wade's face. Maybe Peter didn't remember a whole lot, but he remembered some things every once in a while, and that was a good start.

And yes, the sandwich was smushed.


	61. sixty-one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's parents give him space, leaving just him and Wade together to try and process everything that's happened to them.
> 
> (this is only part 1 and I'm so sorry it's so short I just can't keep track of myself, I'm kinda losing my shit here and I can't make myself focus on trying to write anything right now, i'm so sorry I'll do better on the next one.)

It hadn't even been a full 30 seconds after the door had closed after Wanda's exit that Peter turned to the scarred mercenary. "So, even after they blow your brains out, you get to keep your memories?"

Said scarred mercenary chuckles softly and nods, "Yeah, unfortunately."

Peter, in the midst of biting into his sandwich, repeats the last word, which all sounds like gibberish. Wade nods and mentions that not all memories are things worth keeping. Peter quickly realizes where he's coming from and says he'd prefer not having any memories to keeping the ones that he's got now. Wade leans back on his hands and doesn't even try to hide the chuckle he lets out.

Peter's nearly a quarter of the way through his sandwich when he speaks again, this time quietly asking Wade what they did to him back at Hydra. The merc shakes his head. "They can kill me sure, but I won't stay dead. They thought it was hilarious just killing me over and over again. They didn't even ask me anything, really. Just needed a laugh I suppose. Who better to laugh at than the comedy experiment, huh?"

Peter watches the way that Wade raises his hairless brow and frowns. "Is that all you think you are? A joke?"

Wade pauses like he's never really thought about it or put too much effort into thinking of himself as anything more than what others thought of him. He slowly lifts one shoulder in a half shrug. "My whole life has pretty much been just that. Some sick joke."

Peter puts his sandwich down, suddenly more interested in the man in front of him than his meal. "What was your life like? Before you were like this? Do you remember?"

Wade just stares at the angelic boy sitting in his presence for a moment long enough that Peter begins to wonder if he's done something wrong. "Should I... Not have asked?"

Wade just shakes his head and sits up a little straighter, "Oh, no, you're okay it's just... Nobody's ever asked me that. You know, what my life was like? Nobody's ever wanted to know more about me than what I look like under the suit." He lets out a laugh, but it sounds more nervous than anything, so Peter is quick to say that he doesn't have to tell him anything if he doesn't want to.

Wade shakes his head once again before taking a breath. "What do you want to know?"

Peter just thought for a long moment, deciding that he just wanted to ask the most unimportant questions. Maybe they were unimportant to others, but to them, these may just be the most important questions that could be asked. The questions that made them feel more human, as though they were more than what had happened to them.

And they were. They were human and they were different and broken. But they were still people.

And so they went on back and forth, asking the questions that maybe nobody else cared about, like what color Wade's hair used to be, or if Peter remembered any of his old friends. And the answers to those questions came as easily as breathing did and they were churning out answers like dirty blonde and the girl named MJ. Peter asked Wade if he remembered any old family, and in turn, Wade asked him the same.

Wade easily said that it'd been a really long time since he'd seen any of the family he used to have. He was in his teens when he left them, he was sure they'd either moved on or passed on by now. He wasn't sure if he cared which.

Peter hesitated, saying he remembered a woman named after a month, June or something. He says he thinks that's her name, but it feels wrong on his tongue. Wade gently offers May as a substitute and suddenly it's like a bright flashing neon sign in Peter's head that _yes, that's it_ and he's wondering why he couldn't remember something so short and simple.

Wade tells him that usually, people exposed to extreme torture have troubles remembering things clearly. In fact, torture can make the subject forget the information you want to get from them. It's not uncommon, but with the high levels of torture that Peter must've endured, it's likely that they were able to make him believe in things that were completely false or even falsify things that were 100% true. For now, they couldn't know.

Wade quickly changed them off of the family questionnaire in favor of helping Peter to bed and starting a movie.


	62. sixty-two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's parents casually tell him things he used to know and it makes him frustrated.
> 
> TW: gore, puke, death. I actually cried writing this one, so I feel bad for you guys.

Four days after Peter's rescue and he's upstairs with Natasha and Steve and they're just having a casual conversation. Bucky is out at the store with Wanda, he thinks, and Wade had to go home for a while.

For a moment he could pretend that he was a regular teenager with a mom and dad and not some _freak_ that didn't even have any birth parents. They hadn't told him, and he didn't remember, but it wasn't hard to figure it out. He didn't look anything like these people and they were way too old to really be his parents anyways. Everybody knew who Steve Rogers was... Well, they knew who Captain America was.

He'd only come out of the ice a few years ago, so there was no way Peter could be his son at all. He'd had James with him, so there was no way that Bucky was his father either, based on what he remembered about him. Despite how close he was to Natasha, somewhere deep down he knew that she didn't have any kids, and he knew why.

He thinks he remembers a brief instance where she might've been pregnant, but the memory is so blurred he can't make out what's really happening.

 

When he tunes back into the conversation, Nat's talking to him about some girl named MJ that he used to hang out with and how she'd love to come and see him, and how Ned would too, and she even asked him if he'd be excited to go back to school in a couple of months. He didn't answer. He didn't remember the people she was talking about, despite knowing they were probably once _really_ important to him.

She keeps talking about these kids for another couple of minutes before he asks her to _please_ stop talking about them. She furrows her brows and Steve turns around because he'd said it kind of suddenly and a little bit loud. It was easy to see the conflict on the boy's face and Nat, not quite understanding the state of Peter's memory issues, doesn't quite register what the problem is.

"I don't know who that is! I have no idea who the hell you're talking about!" He's getting really worked up about it now, he can't help it. It's so goddamn frustrating not remembering the simplest of things. As of this point in time, he doesn't even know when his own birthday is. All he knows is what happen at Hydra and a few very vague and unimportant things from long before that.

"Hey, Pete... We're sorry, alright? We didn't mean to frustrate you." Steve says gently and Peter shakes his head, long strands of hair falling into his eyes.

"It's not you guys, it's me, I... I don't even know who I am anymore, and I appreciate you guys including me, but I just don't remember. I don't, I'm sorry." There were tears of anger and frustration in his eyes and no matter how much he blinked they refused to go away and it was just frustrating him more.

He felt weak, useless and stupid that he couldn't remember the easiest things. It wasn't even remotely his fault though, it was theirs, Hydra's. They're the ones who tortured him so badly that he lost every sense of who he was. He didn't have a grip on himself anymore, and sense of his own being. He knew what Hydra wanted him to know, even if it was all fake. He knew that not everything he remembered from there was real.

He could see the guilt on Steve's face, the remorse on Nat's. He just wanted to curl in on himself and stop existing for a while. He wasn't even a whole person anymore. He felt that he was much, much less than that. An object, a weight to be carried, a burden. He just wanted to be normal and he couldn't.

He was just a kid, he didn't understand why there was such a tax on happiness, a price to pay for being a part of humanity. He didn't understand how the world could be so cruel. Steve tried to say something else but Peter just insisted that he was tired and would like to lay down, politely asking if he could please be wheeled downstairs.

And Steve obliged. He wheeled the boy down to his room without qualms and left the boy there just the same. Peter was glad. He felt he could finally have a moment to breathe, despite not really doing much breathing at the moment. He felt trapped, not in this space, but in his head, in his body. He didn't know who he was or who he could be. There was a gentle flash of memory behind his eyes and he could see a healthier version of himself walking across his room.

The old him pulled aside a picture frame on the wall and opened a small hatch, then the memory was gone. Peter, more curious than ever, carefully stood from his chair and made his way to the picture. In it he saw the woman, May, then in memory, he saw her again, _ripped apart_ and _bleeding_ and Peter _can't stand the sight_ and doubles over, puking all over the floor.

His light bar flashes gently to alert him that someone is coming in because of course, though she may not be speaking to Peter directly, Friday had still alerted the others to Peter's predicament. The door opens and in steps Wanda, back from shopping with Bucky who must still be upstairs.

"Oh, Peter... What happened to you? Come, sit back down." She says, and her accent is coming through and it's _nice_ because he _remembers_ it and it's _pure_. It's a sound he knew and it was embedded in his brain and it was one of the few things Hydra didn't manage to take away from him and he held onto her voice and her arms while they just sat together and waited for Bucky to finish stomping down the stairs.

 

As soon as he came into view in the doorway, it was like something in the room shifted and suddenly his guardian angel was watching over him, his leader, his protector. He gently asked Wanda what happened, she said she didn't know.

Peter, halfway to hysterics, pointed a shaking finger towards photo on the wall. "I saw her. She was, she was dead... Was it real?" Then, again, more desperately, " _Was it real?!_ "

And Bucky doesn't even answer all the way and Peter knows the answer just from that and his voice is hoarse as he forces himself to keep speaking. "Oh my God. She's dead? She... I'm an _orphan_? Just like that? My... _My whole family is gone_?"

He swears that he can see tears in Bucky's eyes and he knows there are tears in Wanda's just by the way she refuses to look up from the floor. Bucky sighs and moves to stand. "I think I should go get Steve."

Peter begins pleading, voice so hoarse it hurts him to breathe but he doesn't want this to be deflected or put off any longer. She was dead and they knew and they probably weren't going to tell him for a long time, but he wanted to hear it. He wanted the truth. For once he just wanted someone to tell him the truth. So Bucky sent Wanda for Steve in his place and knelt back down in front of Peter.

"I'm sorry, маленький паук, but it's true... She's gone... And I truly think that she has been for a long time." And Bucky sounds so upset at having to tell Peter this, but it seems there was nobody else that would come clean yet, and if he was asking then it was time.

"So when I saw her there, it was _real_? She... Was she really there?" He rose from his chair and so did his voice, " _Did they really make me see her?! Did they kill her just to make me look?!_ "

Peter's yelling quickly turned into heavy breathing and near sobs before Bucky could even tell him if that was the truth or not. Peter almost didn't want to hear it.

Bucky touches his knee and Peter instinctively takes a breath, allowing Bucky his chance to talk just as Wanda reappears in the door with Steve and Nat behind her.

"We found her in a room on the second basement floor... Cut open, ripped apart, whatever you will... The room she was in was cold, it slowed the decaying process, so she... Stayed... She stayed together longer, you could say... And I can't tell you why they did it, not really. I can't think of any reason more than that they wanted to get to you, and they thought she was the quickest way to make you break... And I'm so sorry that they did that to you, Peter... I can't even begin to imagine how you feel right now, and I know it hurts, but you're not alone, okay? We're all still right here for you, Peter, and we wanna do whatever we can to help you adjust to this new life, okay?"

Bucky did a glance to Steve, who just looked soft, and Nat, who looked somewhat fond. He looked back to Peter, who looked a little bit calmer now.

It would take him a long time to get over this, but at this moment, he had people with him and he would take that.


	63. sixty-three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :(((( nobody said the trip down memory lane was a fun one )))):
> 
> (memory lane part 1)
> 
> TW: gore, self-mutilation, abuse, murder/death. This episode may contain graphic details of how May died.

Eight days after Peter's rescue and he's spent the last four in bed mourning for a family that was taken from him before he even had the chance to remember them properly. The memories have been coming back in groups for the last few days, handfuls of his old life here and there. He remembers sitting down at a table in a restaurant sharing pointless banter. He remembers being taught to tie a tie, to tie his shoes, to write in cursive.

He remembers a super-soaker fight in the fifth grade. He remembers being given money for school trips, even when money was tight. He remembers being her number one priority... And it was all taken away. He'll never have those things again... She won't ever have those things. Hydra took all that she was. All she could've been... Gone.

He remembered a church and a casket and people dressed in black and the photo of a man. He remembered May crying over him, whoever he was. He could see the little church from the street and knew that was the place they needed to have May's funeral. It felt right. Having to bury her, though... That was wrong.

He remembered a large apartment building and a door on one of the upper floors and he wanted to go there. The last time he went somewhere alone, he ended up not coming back, so it made sense when he made himself sit up and call for Wanda on his watch.

She'd been staying with him in his room while Tony helped renovate an apartment for her too, but as of right now she was upstairs. As it rang, he could hear May's voice and he could feel that he was zoning out but he couldn't stop it. Distantly he could hear Wanda's voice, but when he blinked he was no longer in his room, but back with Hydra.

_He could still feel the barrel of Rumlow's gun on his back as they turned the corner. It's the first time he's been out of his room in days, but this was a different floor, so Peter could only imagine where he was being led. He wasn't going to ask, lest Rumlow just pull the trigger... Not that it wouldn't be a welcome death at this point._

_They stopped at a heavy looking set of metal doors. The moment one of them opened, he was literally shoved through. He tripped and fell onto the floor into a small puddle of blood. Slowly, he looked up from the floor and saw a woman chained to a table, and she cried out for him like she knew who he was and maybe she did. But he didn't. He stood and tried to pull her restraints, but nothing happened._

_Spinning around, he dared stare Rumlow down. The only experiment brave enough to do so. "What the hell is this?"_

_The scarred man only laughed. "This is what's left of your blood family, Parker. Reduced to nothing more than an experiment, like you. She's about to make her final effort."_

_Peter was quick to understand what he meant by 'final'. They were going to kill her. They were going to kill her and he was the only one with a chance to save her. It was confirmed to be the truth when Rumlow spoke again._

_"This is the only chance to save her, Parker. If you fail, she dies." With that, he turned and left, leaving Peter alone with the woman he didn't remember. Despite that, he knew that he had to try, or else she would die and it would be on him. Her death would be on his hands and he knew it even now that it would probably end up that way._

_The moment the door closed, he rushed to try and free her from her bonds. The bonds, of course, wouldn't budge. He wasn't strong enough to take them apart. He kept telling her that he would get her out, but the whole time she was protesting._

_"Peter, no. Peter, stop this. Peter please, don't try and free me. Peter if you free me, they'll kill you!" She cried, but he couldn't stop. She was innocent in all of this, she didn't deserve to die, that much he knew. She never did anything to deserve this, she was a kind person. She didn't deserve to die._

_"I don't care if they kill me! You're innocent!" He continued to fight the restraints, but they were solid and refused to budge. He began looking around the room, looking to find something, anything to help. There wasn't much around the room, but in a cabinet, he found some of the same tools that Rumlow kept in the room that he made Peter torture himself._

_He took a scalpel and tried to cut away at the cuffs. The leather was thick so it would take a while to get through and he didn't know how long they had. With one cuff broken and one arm freed, Peter thought she would take to fighting against the other restraints but she didn't. She just reached out and touched his face. The softest touch he'd felt in months._

_"Peter, leave me. You have to get out of here. You have to save yourself, please! You have to go!" She just kept pleading as he shook his head._

_"No, you're innocent, I can't leave you. You don't deserve this..."_

 

When he looked up, Wanda was with him, and she looked worried as all hell. He assured her that he was fine, but now he was just tired and he was sorry for calling her all the way down here for nothing. She doesn't believe him, but doesn't press, instead insisting that he could call whenever he needed, even if it really was nothing, and she would be there.


	64. sixty-four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> why do people even come down this lane?
> 
> (memory lane part 2)
> 
> TW: gore, mutilation, abuse, murder/death. This episode contains more details of how May died.
> 
> (sorry these are taking so long and they're so short, I've been kinda drained...)

Sometime in between Wanda promising that she'll be right back, she's in the middle of helping Steve not blow up the kitchen, and her actually walking out of his apartment, Peter's managed to zone out again. This memory felt so much worse than the last that his head started to throb.

 _May finally accepted to try and escape her confines at Peter's_ literal _pleading at her to try and escape. God only knew how long they had before someone came for them. Their time was cut short by a door across from May's table opened up. No, no, no, no! This wasn't happening now, they were going to get out! A large man in a lab coat walked into the room, surveying the area and May's broken cuff._

_Peter, thinking he'd do whatever he could to protect her, stepped between where she lay on the table and where the man was entering from, scalpel held up in offense. "Don't come any closer, or... Or I'll use this!"_

_The man could tell just by the boy's shaking had that using the scalpel as a weapon was the last thing that he wanted to do. He could tell that the boy didn't want to hurt him and to tell the truth, he didn't want to hurt the boy either._

_The man sighed as he stepped around the room, "You know... I have a daughter about your age... You remind me of her."_

_Peter, incredulously scoffed, "What, do you torture her too?"_

_The man just stared for a moment and shook his head. "No, I'd never hurt a hair on her head. But you've got a sharp object pointed at me and it makes you look just like her... She's very, headstrong. Though, she wasn't always. She was a part of the same program as you, though her... Initiation was a lot less complicated than yours."_

_"What does that mean?"_

_"She's a woman. You know what it means. Unfortunately, after all of what she went through, there was no point." The man moves around the room, still not bothering to look up at Peter. "She couldn't conceive in the first place... That's why they picked you. You couldn't either, but they figured they could change you... Based on your lab results, they were right."_

_Peter's hand was still shaking when the man came closer. He didn't want to hurt anyone... He thinks he remembers, he used to help people. He used to protect them against people like this. The man grabbed his hand and made it impossible for him to drop the scalpel. Peter's brows furrowed. The man spun him around to face the woman on the table, and with his hand still firmly wrapped around the scalpel, he tried to fight whatever he was about to be forced into doing._

_"Peter, if you don't do this, then I have to, and I promise you I'll do it much slower..."_

_May held Peter's eye for a long moment, silently urging him to do whatever this man wanted him to do. This was the difference between her life and his. She could give her life for him, for a chance that he'll escape. Though he was her nephew, he was like her son, and she would do this for him. Even if he was the one hurting her, she would never hold it against him._

_With the man's hand still tightly holding his, Peter's arm raised and slammed back down. The scalpel sunk into May's stomach, but the man wouldn't let him pull the blade away... Instead, he was forced to drag it across the entirety of her lower abdomen. May couldn't hold back her scream, and though she could very well lash out and swing, Peter was the closest one and even now she would never lay a hand on him._

_Tears were streaming down his face, even though he didn't know why. He didn't know just how much this woman meant to him, or how much he meant to her in return._

_The scalpel was finally removed from her abdomen, only for the man to force Peter to plunge it into her chest and slice downwardly over her heart... And the blood just kept coming._


	65. sixty-five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't wanna be stuck inside my head anymore..." (memory lane part 3)
> 
> dedicated to @NekonomeLilyith
> 
> TW: gore, self-mutilation, abuse, murder/death. This episode contains the graphic death of May Parker. Viewer discretion is advised.
> 
> (I'm not sure how long this will be or when I'll get a new chapter out. I'm going through some stuff right now and it's really taking a toll on me. I'd like to remind you guys that I'd like to start taking prompts if you could maybe leave some in the comments for me to come back to, that'd be so nice.)

_"Please don't make me do this... Please don't make me hurt her anymore. S-She's innocent."_

_Peter's pleading made no difference to the man whatsoever. He continued to literally force the boy's hand through the process of whatever they were doing. Peter didn't know what they were doing, just that May was bleeding profusely at this point from the cuts Peter made. The man yanked him away from her and instructed that he drop the scalpel. Peter let go as soon as he could open his hand._

_The man then picked up what looked like a large pair of bolt cutters. Peter didn't want to know what he was going to be forced to do with those..._

_In the end, he was forced to cut May's ribs that covered her heart, and he cried while she screamed. He didn't want to do this, but with the man holding his hands and without the strength to fight back, he didn't really have a choice. The man was pressed against his back and every couple of minutes or so he'd hear a grunt in his ear, but he couldn't pay any mind while he was breaking May's ribs._

_The ribs were tossed onto the floor like they meant nothing, and to the man, they didn't. Peter didn't know how May was still alive, but he figured it out when he saw what he thought was a regular IV, and it turned out to be a steady drip of adrenaline. Peter knew it was keeping her awake, if not keeping her heart pumping at this point. He wanted to rip it out and just let her die already so she didn't have to suffer anymore, but he couldn't._

_He didn't want to see her die, didn't want to live with killing her. He couldn't even get his hands free. Even if someone else was making his hands move, they were still his hands, and the literal and metaphorical blood was on his them._

_Her eyes looked heavy, like all she wanted right now was to sleep, but the steady drip wouldn't let her. She was being kept awake. She was meant to suffer. They wanted her to feel it, but why? What had she done that was so bad?_

_"Why are we doing this? What did she do? Does she deserve this?"_

_The man laughed quietly into his ear, he was so close Peter could feel his breath fanning over his neck. "It doesn't matter... She's here to send a message. To you... To your superheroes... Your parents... They're all going to see that Hydra isn't to be crossed."_

_Peter, still just barely remembering that somewhere he has people that will fight for him, says, "They'll kill you... They'll kill you all and I'll help."_

_The man just laughed as he threw Peter across the room, letting him fall like a sack of potatoes onto the concrete floor. "Oh, Peter. Don't you understand? They aren't coming for you. The people you think will save you? We have them under our belts. They work for us... They won't save you. Nobody will." The man crossed the room to grab a small knife, twirling it around while he stood between Peter and May._

_"Your parents crossed us and we made them disappear. Captain America was a threat, so we brainwashed his best friend and lover. Tony Stark asked too many questions, and we put operatives in his path. We took the girl and made her into a weapon of the highest efficiency. The Avengers got too close, so we hired the mercenary to kill you. He didn't follow through, so we had to take matters into our hands. We dampened your healing abilities, but you just won't die. They should call you cockroach-man instead."_

_Peter shook his head, "But why May? What'd she do?"_

_He laughs like it should be obvious, "She hid you from us after your parents went missing... She wouldn't hand you over... And then you started looking into your parents, and we couldn't have you asking her questions. We had you, too. We made you think the mercenary took her."_

_Peter furrowed his brows, briefly remembering a video clip of who he thought was Deadpool taking his aunt. "You mean he didn't take her?"_

_The man shakes his head. "No... I took her. You believed the mercenary stole her, it made you hate him... It brought you right to us."_

_The man then turned around once more, gently brushing May's hair from her face with the blade of the knife. She whimpered and turned her face away, making the man scowl before turning back to Peter._

_"And now, you're going to come here, or I'm going to kill you." The man's threat made Peter stand quickly and walk over, expecting to be delivered some kind of punishment of his own... It didn't come in the form that he thought. The man put the knife into Peter's hands, and he was instructed to slice his thighs, or he would strangle May with her own IV._

_Peter, thinking May could still be saved and be spared, pulled his hospital gown up and dug it none-too-gently into the skin of his thighs, not that he was currently anything more than skin and bones anyway. He sliced this way and that, allowing the blood to drip down his legs until the man told him to stop and put the knife down. Peter did all that he was told and looked up to see the man standing with what looked like nothing more than a metal hook with a wooden handle. That's really all it was._

_He put it into the boy's hands and watched his confused face at the tool he was given. It was clear he was unable to put the clues together, and the man's sinister smirk did nothing to help this._

_Until he pushed the boy towards May and spread the sliced flesh of her abdomen apart. "Hook it to whatever organ you can find."_

_Peter hesitated and the man lifted the knife. "Do it, Parker, or I will kill you right this goddamn second!"_

_May insisted that Peter do whatever is asked of him in order to ensure his survival... With trembling hands, he did as he was told. Tears began falling down his cheeks again as he realized what he was about to be forced to do and May, seeing his distress, promised him that everything was going to be okay and that it would all be over soon. The man told him to pull, and with a sob, he did. He knew the slower he pulled, the more it would hurt her, but he only had so much strength and leverage._

_She screamed, but even through the pain, she was assuring Peter that he'd be alright. She was crying, promising that no matter what they'd be together again and even as he was ripping her apart she was telling him that she loved him. He sobbed, wondering how this woman could say that she loved him when he was literally gutting her as she spoke._

_He pulled until he was told to stop, and he dropped the horrible tool the moment he knew he could. He curled towards himself, sobbing as he reached out to take her hand in his own. The man handed the knife back to him._

_"She's suffering now Peter... She doesn't have long before the shock and blood loss kill her. Put her out of our misery."_

_He takes the knife with shaking hands. He doesn't want to kill her but he knows the man is right. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to hurt her. He did it. He's a monster now. He tortured the only family he had and now he has to kill her. He doesn't want to. He has no choice._

_Even though she knows what's coming, May's still being as sweet to him as ever. She's touching his face and smiling at him. "My strong boy... I'm so sorry this happened to you. You have to do it now, Peter. But it's okay... I know we'll see each other again one day, I promise you we will... Oh, my strong boy. I know you can do it. I know you can survive this... You're so strong, so brave... Peter, I love you so much, I... Please, Peter. Let me go now, it's okay. I love you, Peter. It's okay."_

_She was trembling as Peter readied the knife. She took his hand once more and urged him to hold eye contact with her... And he did. He swung down with a sob and watched the look of pain cross her face... And then the look of peace._

_With blood on her lips and the life draining out of her, she used her final words to cough out, "Bayside... Bayside. Remember... Love..."_

 

The sobs leaving his lips were uncontrollable, bordering on hysterics, as Bucky ran into the room. Friday had seemed oddly panicked for an AI as she alerted them to Peter's heart rate and general unresponsiveness. Steve didn't think he'd ever seen Bucky clear two floors that quickly. He skidded to a stop and knelt next to Peter on his bed.

Peter's eyes were wild as he tried to focus on the man in front of him. He could hear that he was being asked questions about what happened but he could barely breathe enough to respond. Bucky worked on calming him down for a minute while Steve and Wanda hovered by the door. They didn't want to crowd the boy or make him uncomfortable, but they didn't want to leave him either.

When Peter was finally calm enough to get a breath of air into his lungs, he quickly expelled it with a cry of, "I killed her!"

And the whole room seemed to stop. There wasn't a single sound in the air aside from the vibrating of Peter's watch and his heart-wrenching cries.


	66. sixty-six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve doesn't want to raise Peter in The Life anymore. (part 1)
> 
> (I'm actually really depressed because my computer restarted sometime and I lost half of a chapter, so please bear with me for how long this may have taken to be put out and how the quality may be.)

It's 28 days after Peter's rescue and Steve train of thought always ended up in the same place.

Every time he looked at the small boy floating around his heart and home, it was his first and last thought. When he saw the boy flinch at loud noises and stress out in long stretches of silence, it crossed his mind. Each time the boy jolted awake from a nightmare or zoned out to a memory, the words ended up on the tip of his tongue. He was itching to speak them but didn't quite know how.

When Tony came by, he wanted to speak them, but he wasn't sure if Tony was the right person to tell, considering that at this time he didn't have very much of a place in the boy's life. Tony tried to be around when he could, he wanted to be part of the boy's life, but he could only be around so much, he would only come around every once in a while. He knew that the boy was still afraid, but that lessened a little more with each of Tony's visits.

Every time that Friday alerted them in the middle of the night to one of Peter's nightmares, it was one of his first thoughts. Whenever Bucky ran down the stairs to comfort the boy, it was floating around in front of his eyes. When Nat got up to make coffee, assuming that nobody would be going back to sleep, he wanted to breathe the words like fire on a dragon's tongue.

He didn't want the boy to be a hero anymore. He didn't want to see the boy spend his life as they had; broken, bruised, having the world expect them to give more than they could. He didn't want to see the boy grow up under the public eye of spandex and camera flashes. He didn't want the boy's name tarnished in articles and newspapers and message boards. He didn't want the boy's failures to get more publicity than his accomplishments.

He rose from the bed like the never-laid-to-rest worries of the rest of the world around them and followed Nat to the kitchen. Recently, a screen had been installed in the living room that displayed nothing but the stats coming from Peter's watch in real time. It helped a lot, seeing it just during the day. Even if Peter was in the same room with them, at least they would know if Peter needed them but couldn't say.

Right now the screen showed his heart rate was elevated, almost to the point of a full-blown panic attack, but thankfully it was starting to slow again.

He looked to Nat where she leaned on the counter, and finally, in the silence around them, he let the words hang like lost friends between them. "I don't want to raise Peter in The Life anymore. I don't want him being a hero."

The way Nat's shoulders seemed to lose all of the tension they'd been holding felt like enough for Steve to know that she completely agreed with the idea before she even said it. When she did, it was quiet, like she'd almost been afraid to say something. It seemed like Steve's train of thought just picked her up along the way, as she'd been thinking about it just within the last couple of days.

"I don't either." Her tone was soft, quiet. They both knew the dangers of The Life all too well, seen it firsthand one too many times, risked their lives for the good of everyone else, and for what? The constant near-death experiences? Kidnappings? Torture? Watching those closest to you endure the same? It wasn't a life that anyone wanted.

This wasn't exactly a life that people actively wanted to be part of. Nobody just woke up one day and really decided that they wanted to be a superhero. That was a dream reserved for young children that had no idea what being a hero actually took. They thought it was about the glory and the saving people and the rewards you get for saving said people...

But none of that was real. There was no glory in being a scapegoat for the whole world. The only reward you get for saving people is to have the number of casualties thrown back in your face; the higher the death toll, the harder it hit. Even if there were no casualties, they'd still pin the damage on you. The buildings knocked down by the bad guys were your fault, every death on their hands was on yours...

With a shaking breath, he says, "Twelve people have died in Queens since Peter went missing, at the hands of people that "Spider-Man" would've taken care of... I don't want that blame on him, I don't want him to think that blood is on his hands."

Nat is quiet as she puts down her steaming hot cup of coffee, and she's still silent as she strides over to him with that swing in her hips. She's just as silent when she wraps her arms around his neck, letting her actions speak rather than her lips. _'It'll be okay'_ they say as they brush away his thoughts like dust on his shoulders.

He knew that she agreed wholeheartedly. They'd both been swallowed by the spotlight and spit back out again after they'd been chewed like they were nothing more than waste. They never had a choice, but Peter does. And if Peter doesn't remember being a hero, then obviously he can't go back. They're not going to train him as a hero, they're going to treat him like a son... When all of the paperwork is finished, he will be, and they'll be 100% responsible for Peter and his life.

They know that adopting him won't keep him all the way out of the spotlight, but it would help. If he wasn't a hero, the camera wouldn't be on him so much. The most media attention he might get would be from people wondering what it was like being the son of Captain America and Black Widow, or the son of The Winter Soldier. All of his attention wouldn't be about him at all, but about them.

Maybe it could be a bit annoying for Peter, but at least he wouldn't be having near-death experiences every day like they did and _hopefully_ he wouldn't be getting kidnapped ever again. Hopefully keeping him out of The Life would keep him a little bit safer.

When Bucky came into the room with the boy in tow, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, they couldn't help but smile.


	67. sixty-seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is relieved to hear that Peter used some of his free time to attend church instead of obsessing over the details of May's upcoming funeral. aka, Steve doesn't want to raise Peter in The Life anymore. (part 2)
> 
> TW: religion
> 
> also, spoiler, if my writing doesn't make it clear, I don't practice and I've never been in confession, so I apologize if I get everything wrong, I hope I don't butcher it too bad and offend anyone.

It's been 35 days since Peter's rescue and he's beginning to get restless. He wants to get out of the house, but he isn't ready for school and still barely remembers his friends. He wants to go somewhere that he's never been before. He doesn't want to relearn, he wants to be taught without issue.

So, when he hears the bells in the distance, he asks Nat what they belong to. She tells him that it's a Church, and offers to take him to one if he wants. So, he dresses up in the only pair of pants that will fit him and borrows a button up from Nat, and she drives him to one of the few Catholic churches in Brooklynn Heights. The one that they end up at isn't at all fancy, but it looks to be nearly as old as Steve is, if not older.

Peter wonders if this could be the church Steve attends, and with a quick question to Nat, it's proven to be the one. He knew Steve couldn't make it, as much as he wanted to. Work was keeping him busy today, but that was okay. Peter knew that his dad had a life and he'd do well to respect it.

Nat was kind enough to stay with him through the first sermon he ever remembered attending. She sat next to him calmly while he listened about God's plan for each and every person, each and every day. He wondered if him being kidnapped was somehow all a part of God's plan for him, and then he wondered why God was so cruel to him if it was. Had he done something to anger him? Was he not a good follower?

If God was kind, why had he suffered so horribly? Was he nothing more than a pawn in God's master plan for the world? Or was it all part of something even bigger? Was he meant to endure that torture to better follow in God's lead?

He tucked his hair behind his ear. He knew it was pretty long now, but he didn't really want to cut it right now. He thought the shoulder-length style kinda suited him. He kinda liked the way it curled out around his shoulders. It made him feel... Different, but in a nice way. In all of the pictures he'd seen of himself, his hair had never been this long.

He remembered when he'd found his phone for the first time, tucked beneath the pillows on his bed. He remembers scrolling through the thousands of notifications from things like Twitter and Snapchat and all the tons of text messages from people whose faces he didn't even remember anymore. He remembers looking through his Snapchat memories, seeing all of the photos he'd taken of his friends and all the places he'd been.

He remembers scrolling through Twitter and seeing _#WhatHappenedToSpiderman_ and _#WhereIsPeterParker_. From what he could gather, the first of the threads was nothing but theories about what happened to the Queens-dwelling hero, and the second was started by his friend as a way of spreading the word that he was missing. Any sightings or information were meant to be tweeted with the hashtag to help the Avengers and authorities to find him. It was a short thread.

Now, sitting here in the wooden benches surrounded by candlelight while God's followers sung praises of how kind and generous he was, he only had one question, and it shocked the Priest. Peter assumed he'd never heard such a question.

"Can God be cruel?" he asked, with no hint of anger or hostility, almost as if he wanted to clarify the boy's question. "Why, yes. He can. But I promise you, my child, God will never be crueler to you than you can handle. Everything he does has its reason. If you think that God was cruel to you, it may be that he was trying to teach you a lesson of sorts, or he was trying to show you a truth that could not be found without his help."

When the sermon ended, Peter stole into a confessional and waited. He was silent, respectful. When the opposite side of the confessional opened, he took a shaking breath. He wasn't really sure how to proceed, but he thought he had a good idea.

"Forvige me father, I believe I've sinned... I don't think I've ever confessed in my life, but I'd like to start."

"It is never too late to begin confessing your sins, my child. God will be forgiving."

So Peter recounted the parts he could remember. The way he technically murdered his Aunt May, the way he had feelings for boys, the way he was thinking of making slight changes to his appearance to seem less masculine, and the way he'd partaken in explicit sexual acts with men, including the way Rumlow had taken him against his will.

In the end, the Priest, Father Walsh, just sighed and sat silent for a moment. "My child, God loves you. He loves you no matter who your love interests are or how you present yourself. He wants you comfortable in the skin that he's put you in. These things are not sins. For your Aunt, rest her soul, you are not to blame. The hands that forced yours carry that sin. And as for that man, who forced you again, he is the one to blame. You've confessed no sins to me, Peter, but you are forgiven nonetheless. Maybe taking your memory is God's way of giving you a second chance. I pray for you, my child."

"Thank you, Father."

 

Steve was exhausted. Work was keeping him as busy as they could, but even now he was using what little bit of free time he had to help Bucky start finally planning their wedding. Neither of them wanted anything particularly big, but they knew that if their friends had anything to do with it, then it would be a bit of a wild night either way. Sam was already taking his duties as Steve's best man very seriously.

Bucky's been wanting to ask Peter, but he doesn't want to overwhelm the boy. Steve thinks that's okay, they're not in any big rush right now.

Steve knows their planning is over for the day when Bucky glances at the clock and grabs his jacket. Steve knew better than to ask where he was going. He was going to go to the same place he'd been going since they rescued Peter. An old 'abandoned' S.H.I.E.L.D. warehouse only a little ways from here. Steve wanted to deliver his usual, _'We don't torture people, Buck.'_ to his lover, but he knew he could already expect a _'He doesn't count as people anymore.'_ in return.

And despite Steve's moral objections, he knew that Bucky was right. He didn't count as people anymore. Steve was sure that he hadn't counted for a very long time, now. Again, despite his objections, he wouldn't protest if it would help Bucky sleep better at night... If it would help Peter.

Somewhere not so deep down he knew that if Bucky hadn't taken the job, he would have. Part of him wishes that he'd taken it, just so he could take the pleasure of squeezing the life out of that brainless motherf-

The door opened not long after Bucky left, and in walked Nat along with a limping Peter. He had crutches that he used, but Steve understood that sometimes they can get a little, okay, a lot, annoying. Somehow, Peter never let them bother him.

"Hey, I was wondering where you guys got off to."

Nat hangs up her coat and puts her keys down on the table before smiling. "Peter asked me to take him to church. I thought it might be good for him, too."

Peter leans his crutches by the door and limps his way to the couch, still smiling but not actively tuned into the conversation. Steve furrowed his brows and turned to Nat.

"Where's his hearing-aid?"

Without blinking or even seeming bothered, Nat started making up a cup of coffee. "He took it off in the traffic. I don't blame him, even I thought it was loud."

Steve just nodded. He wanted to remind the boy that he could just turn the hearing-aid down so he doesn't have to bother with taking it out and possibly losing it, but he bit his tongue. He didn't want to be overbearing or strict. He wanted to be a kind, gentle parent. He wanted to channel his mother and the way she always approached parenting. She was certainly strict when she needed to be but, to tell the truth, the only time she needed to be was when he and Bucky got into some stupid trouble.

Steve knows he wasn't the perfect child for an only parent to raise, but he hopes that he learned a lot from her on how to raise children...

Because with Peter sitting on the couch, an arm slung over his face, Steve Rogers wanted nothing more than to be the best goddamn parent in the world.


	68. sixty-eight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter sees Wade and he's not sure how to feel about the butterflies in his stomach. (part 1)
> 
> (PSA, lots of annoying over-detailing in this one but idgaf. I actually sat for a while adding things into a cart on the Ulta website so I knew what to write and what Wade's all-around price would be.)

Peter is no longer keeping count of how many days he's been free of Hydra because he's now refusing to define his new life by something like that. He knows it hasn't been long, just over a month, but he's going to live the rest of his life however he damn well pleases.

And right now, he's pleased to tidy up the barely-there mess in his bedroom so that he can have Wade over. He hasn't seen the mercenary in far too long, and after the near-death and actual death experiences they sorta shared, Peter thought it was wrong not to hang out.

He wasn't prepared for Wade to show up with gifts for him though. His scarred hands were full with the straps of gift bags and a huge box and his face held a smile.

"Hey, Petey baby." The merc said with a smile as he sat the box and bags down on the floor. "How're you feeling?"

Peter watched as the man sat down on his bed, and he felt something he never remembered feeling before. He thinks it's what other people describe as butterflies in the stomach when you get nervous around someone you like. "I feel... Like I should've gotten you something."

And Wade just laughs and it's like music to Peter's ears and the sound brings a smile to his face and he has no idea why. A flash of memory provides him with an image of him and Wade sharing the small space of a twin sized mattress in someone else's cabin on someone else's dime and his cheeks flush a rosy pink that he can't control. And of course Wade notices, but for once he keeps his words to himself, instead opting to tell Peter that he didn't have to get him anything.

Peter would like to protest, but he knows that Wade wouldn't allow it, either way, so he just smiles and thanks to the scarred man in front of him before he's even opened any of the bags, and that's sweet. Wade pats the space of the bed beside him and Peter sits, shifting in his seat to get comfortable and also to try and rid his mind of the sinful thoughts creeping up on him.

Wade pays no mind and instead offers the boy one of the smaller bags with a chuckle, and Peter almost wants to ask what he's laughing about, but he doesn't. Instead, he just gently removes the tissue paper and peers into the bag. He takes out the bubble wrapped object inside and carefully unwraps it, listening in to Wade's commentary at the same time.

"I'm not sure if you remember, but you once told me that you liked my cologne, and I told you that I'd get you a bottle to keep, so you can spray it on things and feel closer to me."

Now it's Wade's turn to have pink cheeks and Peter just smiles. He feels fond of this man and the things that he remembers and he's grateful that Wade does even if he doesn't. Peter thanks the murderous maniac with too much time and money before gently laying it down on the bed behind them. Wade is quick to offer Peter the next bag and the boy wonders aloud if all of these gifts have the same kind of meaning to them.

Wade doesn't deny it. Inside of the next bag is actually something they'd discussed over text recently. It's small, but it kind of means a lot to Peter, especially since he's trying to reinvent this person that he's going to be. He wants to do it right. So when he pulls out the tissue paper, all he can do is smile.

The bag contains the following: 6 pairs of spandex leggings in varying solid colors, 4 pair of all black cotton leggings, and another black spandex pair with some kind of cute mesh around the knees.

Peter is over the moon at this gift and he can't even imagine what's in the others. Some of the items come as a surprise to him, as the other bags contain things like a stuffed giant panda, along with a note that mentioned that Wade donated 3k to the World Wide Fund for Nature, three or four of Wade's own t-shirts and a zip-up hoodie that looked suspiciously like Wade's own Deadpool suit, and a brand new professional camera.

Peter doesn't even know what to say to any of these things and he's halfway to tears, not just from the gifts, but from Wade's donation. He remembers a conversation that once had about the organization and how Peter regularly donated to their cause.

Wade gives Peter a few minutes to calm down before he stands and grabs the last and large box from the floor.

"Okay, Petey. I know we just talked about this, and I know you probably wanted to do a lot of this for yourself, but I just couldn't stop myself from trying to spoil you. Nothing's too good for you, and I want you to know that. The receipt is with me, so if there's something in here you don't like, I can always take it back and let you pick out something else, okay?"

Peter wasn't sure where Wade was going with this, so he just nodded and allowed the large (and heavy) box to be sat in his lap. He wasn't sure how the thing was being held together with all the weight inside of it.

Peter's jaw _dropped_ when he looked inside.

On the very top of the stuff inside, was an LED makeup mirror and Peter could only imagine the bright, never been used lights and how they might shine on his skin. He sat it on the bed and continued looking through the box.

The box in itself was at least half of his size, almost like a box for a tall mini-fridge, but wider.

He pulled out a hair dryer, flat iron, and curling iron, and the fact that the curling iron didn't match the others didn't matter because Peter had seen these on the website and knew what they cost.

As far as eyeshadow palettes went, these were some of the best and maybe most expensive. Just simple glances to the packaging gave away their names, _Venus XL, Dream St. Kathleen Lights, MORPHE X Jaclyn Hill, Modern Renaissance_ and _Zodiac Love Signs_.

Peter knew that those alone cost an arm and a leg, so he could only imagine what else might be in this box.

The answer came in the form of a 12 piece beauty collection, all 7 shades of _NARS_ blush, regular _Urban Decay_ All Nighter setting spray and a travel bottle, _Crest_ Professional 3D Whitestrips, shea sugar scrub, Himalayan salt scrub, miracle hair mask, apple cider vinegar and Himalayan sea salt scalp scrub, brush cleanser, a cleansing pad, mascara guard, lash tool and curler, a mini eyebrow tweezer set, _Beautyblender_ blenders and cleanser, a sharpener, two different kinds of nail strengtheners and coconut cuticle oil, tea tree shampoo, dry shampoo and no frizz nourishing oil, razor bump and ingrown hair solution, herbal body moisturizer, _Better Than Sex Mascara_ , 3 different waterproof liquid eyeliners, _Smashbox_ highlighter, all three shades of _Make Them Jelly Hi-Lite_ , _NYX Lip Lengerie Gloss_ in all 9 colors, _Rodeo Drive Highlighter_ , all 3 shades of _Catrice 3D Glow Highlighter_ , clay-to-cream cleanser, watermelon sleeping mask, _Burt's Bees Detoxifying Clay Mask_ , nourishing facial oil and rose water toner, all 48 colors of _Sally Hansen Insta Dri Nail Color_ polish, all 19 shades of _BUXOM Full-On Plumping Lip Cream_ , and a large bottle of hairspray.

Once he's reached the bottom, he finally looks up at Wade. He's patiently waiting for the boy's reaction, though he worries when he sees said boy's lip quivering.

"Oh no, I fucked something up, didn't I? Did I forget anything? I know there's no concealer or anything, I wasn't sure how to do the color match without you being around, I'm sorry. Do I need to go pick something else up? Do I need to take something back?"

Wade seemed near frantic that he may have messed something up, and Peter let him go on while he rose from the bed covered in his gifts. The boy sat the box down and shook his head. "No, I love it. I love it all... You didn't have to do all of this..."

And Wade's expression softened and he just smiled as he pulled Peter into a hug, the only hug he'd let himself be part of in a while. "Of course I did. Nothing's too good for you, remember?"

Peter just laughed, cheek pressed against Wade's chest. "If I ask you what this cost, you, will you tell me the truth?"

Wade laughed and rubbed the boy's back. "Over two grand."

And Peter pulled back, eyes wide. "Give me the numbers."

Wade, rolled his eyes a little and produced the long ass receipt from his back pocket and Peter's jaw dropped once more as he looked at the whopping 2,382 dollar total. And Wade could only laugh.


	69. sixty-nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter sees Wade and he's not sure how to feel about the butterflies in his stomach. (part 2)  
> aka, Peter asks Wade if they can do some "adult stuff" and Wade can't say no. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

"Wade, I... I have no clue how I can thank you for all of this stuff..." Peter scoffed as he looked over the things on his bed. "There's just so much, and I'll never have the kind of money it would take to pay you back."  
"Petey, no paybacks, it's a gift."

Peter wanted to protest, but the look Wade gave him was enough to make him shut his mouth before the words even had a chance to escape... But then he got an idea, and it was wild and wicked and he loved the thought. "Well," he slid his hand up Wade's chest, "can I at least show my gratitude?"

And Wade raised a hairless brow and asked what the boy had in mind, and when he was given the answer, he laughed, "Well, it is chapter 69."

Peter's brows furrowed and Wade shook his head. Peter said nothing else about it but bit his lip, anxiously awaiting Wade's response. Wade told him that they ought to at least put away all of his new gifts, so they at least had access to the bed, and Peter thought it was a good idea. Together, they cleaned back up. Wade put the new clothes into Peter's drawers and Peter carried his products into the bathroom in armfuls, silently vowing to organize it all later.

Wade reminded Peter four times between the bathroom door and the bed that they didn't have to do anything, and Peter reminded him four times in return that he knew, and he wanted to. Wade said that he didn't want Peter to think that he had to give him any kind of sexual anything ever, and Peter said that he knew, that he wanted to do it. He wasn't totally sure why, but he did.

He told Wade that he remembered their first night together, then he paused. He knew that he looked a lot different now compared to how he did then. Back then, he only had a few burn marks and the little scars on his wrist. He had some meat on his bones then... Now he was thin, fragile, covered in burns and scars and he didn't want to wear anything but long pants and long sleeves.

Even though he knew that he was safe here with Wade and that he'd never be judged for how he looked, he was still very insecure and started wondering if he could keep most of his clothes on. 

Wade, like a Saint, smiled and without Peter saying a word, said, "I know what you're thinking. If you want to stop, we can. If you want to keep going we can. If you want to leave all of your clothes on, you can. I want you to be comfortable with me."

And Peter pulled the older man down into a kiss and he felt his heart leap into his throat the moment their lips touched. It was like a fire sparked somewhere deep inside of him and his whole body was being used as paper-thin embers to fuel it. Wade's touch was like lightning, each brush of their skin together sent sparks of riveting light across Peter's soul and surrounding his heart. 

Peter felt strong, like the power of a thousand suns was burning in his veins. Peter felt light, like his lungs were full of helium and he was floating off of the ground. Peter felt soft, like he was pressed against a bed of feathers when Wade laid him down. Peter felt free, like nothing could hold him back from this moment anymore.

Wade laid beside him as they kissed, and it was lazy and careful and soft. Wade's lips were gentle as they brushed across his jaw, fingers light as they danced across his hip, laugh soft as Peter breathed his name.

Peter reached up and pulled the ball cap from Wade's scarred head and tossed it to the floor with a smile. Wade just looked on fondly, like nothing else in the world mattered, and really in his mind, nothing else did.

Wade's touch was gentle as he shimmied Peter's sweats down a little, and the only mind he paid to the scars, on Peter's hips and upper thighs, was to shower them with kisses on the way down.

Peter's breathing picked up just a little as he felt Wade's lips wrapping around him. He reached down and put his hand on the back of Wade's head and just sort of imagined running his fingers through the hair that he used to have. Wade looked up at the boy as he took him down effortlessly. It was like blowjobs were second nature to Wade, and they probably were.

Wade was so fucking good at this and it was easy to get Peter to react, to get him to make those sweet little noises that he'd try and swallow down. Wade wanted to taste all of the sounds Peter was making, but the thought of doing so was put on the back burner when he felt Peter's tiny hand rubbing against him through his pants.

Getting something really had been the last thing on Wade's mind, but he'd be a liar if he said he didn't fucking miss Peter's velvet lips around him. The fact that Peter wanted to do that of his own accord was really something, especially after what he's been through.

Wade lifted his hips and let his jeans be tugged down and smirked when he heard Peter gasp. Wade wasn't sure it was from the size of his dick or the way he was swirling his tongue, but he didn't really care. It was his turn to gasp whenever Peter wasted absolutely no time in taking Wade in as far as he could in one go.

It took all of his willpower not to bust right then and there, really. He kept bobbing his head, taking down more and more of Peter's member as he went, causing the boy to whine around his own length in return. Wade reached between them and felt Peter grab onto his hand. And he let him hold it.

Wade rubbed circles onto the back of Peter's hand while they sucked each other off, a strangely wholesome moment for such a sinful act. Peter eventually released Wade's hand in favor of moving it into his hair.

Wade took the hint and tugged, not missing the way Peter's jaw went slack. Wade took advantage of that and used the grip on Peter's hair to push his head down. Peter moaned, like it was the best thing that'd ever happened to him and doubled his efforts of pleasing Wade.

It fuckin' worked, though, because the more Wade pleased him, the more Peter pleased back until they were both cumming and laying back to catch their breaths, the only part of them touching was their intertwined hands.


	70. seventy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has their bad days. Some are just worse than others. Others are much, much worse.
> 
> TW: self-mutilation, suicidal thoughts, slight gore.

Everyone had their bad days, that much was true. To say that this was one of the easier days would be a lie. There was nothing easy about this day at all. Every shred of happiness Peter'd had just yesterday was gone. It felt like someone cut his veins open in order to rip the happiness from his body. He didn't have the energy to move from his bed.

He was leaned against the headboard, just staring at the wall across from him. Today was definitely going to be difficult. Memories were presenting themselves to him despite a month of peaceful, ignorant bliss. No matter how much he blinked, he couldn't shake the memories he was being presented with and the fact that Wade had left at some point didn't help in the slightest.

They'd started the moment he opened his eyes this morning, and he couldn't avoid them long enough to go back to sleep. He was alone now, and he didn't know how to make it all go away. 

Steve was at work, Bucky and Nat were working on something, Wanda was on a date with Vision. Sam wasn't available to babysit today and Tony was supposed to pick him up six hours ago and he was nowhere to be found and wasn't answering his phone. He was meant to call Nat if Tony didn't show, but he couldn't be bothered to bother her if she was busy.

Especially not while he was stuck remembering such difficult things...

_Bruised beyond the point of wanting to look at himself in the mirror, Peter laid on his bed with slowly-healing ribs. It was bearable, but breathing hurt like a bitch. He could barely hear his own labored wheezing over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. The bruises on his chest were healing quicker than the ones on his face, but that was okay. As long as they were all gone before May got home he'd be fine._

_He wasn't fine. He could hear the front door opening and he couldn't move fast enough to put on a shirt. He didn't even have the energy or the willpower to sit up, to begin with, so he just laid there in hopes that May wouldn't bother with him for a while yet._

_His hopes were crushed when a knock came at his door and he couldn't suck air into his lungs fast enough to reply before the door was opening. Her eyes fell on him and he didn't even attempt to reply, he just laid there and held eye contact with her._

_She started freaking out and getting ready to take him to the hospital, but he protested as hard as he could for the problems he was having at the moment. She was frantic, waving her hands around as she spoke and demanded to know who'd done this to him._

_She kept asking if it was a kid from school or a random fight on the street, and that's when he decided to man up and tell her everything. He told her that on a school field trip, he'd been bitten by a spider, and it changed him genetically. It gave him awesome healing powers and more. He told her that his Stark Internship was really just his excuse to go and be Spider-Man._

_She tried to ground him right then and there, but he weakly protested. He pleaded and begged. He helped people and he liked it. He was one of the little guys, and_ who else would look out for us little guys, Aunt May?

_She still wanted to protest, but when she looked down at him the bruise on his face had faded almost to nothing, and she couldn't believe her eyes, despite having already been told the truth just minutes ago. She asked for clarification if that was thanks to his powers, and he said yes._

 

He blinked, and he was alone. And Aunt May was gone, and she wouldn't be back. She'd never scold him for being reckless again, and it hurt because he wanted her to. He wanted her to sit down across from him and say that being a hero was stupid and that it was going to get him killed... And she was right. It would get him killed... Which is why despite remembering a little about being Spider-Man, he now wanted nothing to do with it.

He blinked again, but there she was, standing in front of him. He jumped, despite knowing that she wasn't real. She was covered in blood and even from here he could see that her heart was nothing more than a large cavity.

"You're not real..."

"You're right, Peter. I'm not real. Not anymore... But whose fault is that?" She laughed.

He didn't want to respond, but the answer was clear, beating itself off of the inside of his skull waiting to be let out like a lion in a cage. "It's mine..."

There was a long moment of silence and when he looked down his hands were covered in blood and he whimpered as he tried to rub it off. He looked back up at her but now she was smiling, except it was an evil smile. It held no kindness. It held something else Peter didn't want to acknowledge... It held hatred.

"You're right, Peter, it is your fault. I mean, if you had just died, they would've let me go... Don't shake your head at me, Peter, you know it's true! You ripped me apart!"

"It wasn't my fault!" He cried. His watch was going crazy and the light bar in his room was flashing like some demonic disco.

She jumped on the bed, just inches from his face and yelled, "You did this to me!"

All he could do was cower, but how far back can you lean from the things that are inside of you? How do you escape? How do you escape your own mind? The twisted May in front of him just laughed.

"Oh, Peter... You know it's not that easy to get away from me... You know there's only one way now."

"No, I don't want to-"

"Oh, but you do, Peter. You know you do, I can feel it. You deserve it for what you've done to me, you know you do."

He shook his head but when he looked down he saw the knife in his hands and he sobbed. He knew it was true, that he deserved it. He deserved to pay for what he'd done. He deserved to die for killing her, to suffer for the way that she suffered at his hands. But killing himself wouldn't bring him any suffrage, he had to make it hurt first. He had to hurt, he had to hurt...

May's laughter was distant now, echoing in his ears as he brought the shaking knife to his wrist. His body wracked with sobs as he slowly, painfully dragged it across the width of his wrist. It stung, but he wanted it, he needed it, he knew he deserved it as payment for his sins...

But then he remembered what the priest had said, about him having no real sins to confess... How someone forced him to kill May and it wasn't his fault... But it was, wasn't it? They were his hands that cut her, hurt her, pulled her apart and then some. How could it not be his fault? How could he not deserve this?

His light bar was flashing a different color now, but through the haze of his own mind he couldn't figure out what it meant for the life of him. He figured it out when the door opened to reveal a panicked looking Tony Stark.

Peter did nothing but watch as the frightened man pulled a towel from his counter and ran over. The towel was pressed to his arm and the knife was knocked to the floor. He could hear Tony distantly, asking him what he'd done. With a hiccup, he replied.

"I did it, Mr. Stark, I deserve it... Should've done it a long time ago then... Maybe everything would be different."

Tony shushed him, firmly telling the boy that none of what happened was his fault in the slightest. He vowed in front of said boy that he'd do whatever it took to make sure that they caught the bastard that really deserved it, and all Peter could do was nod for a moment.

"Are you... Are you mad at me, Mr. Stark?"

Peter's lip was quivering. He was young and fragile, a version of Tony Stark that Tony himself had not been in so many years, and now a carbon copy form of his emotions was laying right here in front of him, vulnerable and almost pleading for love and Tony shook his head.

"I'm not mad at you, Peter. I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid for you, but I'm not mad. I'm gonna take care of you now, okay? I promise."

Peter nodded, but still looked like he was thinking of something else. "Please don't tell Bucky..."

And Tony almost laughed before he realized that it would be a bad idea. He knew that Bucky would find out one way or another, but he promised the boy that he wouldn't tell Bucky, and so he would leave it to one of the others to pass the news along to him. He was barely winning Peter back, and he wasn't about to ruin that by being a tattle-tale. Especially not to the likes of Bucky Barnes.


	71. seventy-one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony thinks he knows the truth. Part of him wants to be wrong.

Tony'd had enough experience with doctoring his own wounds throughout his life that he made quick work of Peter's. The boy asked him not to mention it yet, so he didn't, and somehow they just went about business as normal... Well, as normal as business could be right now.

Tony made small talk with Peter, who kept up easily. He made sure to ask Peter about his studying and if he still wanted to look into getting a tutor for a while. Peter agreed, thinking it would be nice to have someone trying to teach him so he wasn't struggling to figure out everything he'd forgotten. He asked Peter if he liked everything in his room still or if he wanted something new, and the boy quietly asked about some small bookshelves and maybe a cool looking vanity.

Tony asked quietly about the makeup that was sitting out and asked if Peter was into that now. Peter, worried that he was being judged, said nothing at first. Not until Tony promised him that he was in no way making fun of him or judging him, and was just genuinely curious.

Peter said that yes, he was kinda getting into it now, and despite some things still missing from his collection, Wade had gone above and beyond to spoil him. Tony nodded, listening intently for a few minutes before speaking.

"We can see what we can do about getting you a good set up. Do you want a mirror one? We can do a mirrored one."

Peter just laughed a little, then let Tony continue.

"As for the missing makeup, I don't know much about makeup, do you know a lot?"

Peter shakes his head and wonders where the old man is going with all of this.

"Well, Miss Potts is really good with makeup, maybe she wouldn't mind coming with us and helping us out, hm?"

And so, on they went, stopping by Miss Potts' workplace to see if she'd be interested in hanging out and helping out. She didn't mind and was actually a little excited to finally get to spend some time with Peter.

Peter asked how they were doing, but the answer surprised him a little. He knew that Tony and Bruce had split, but he hadn't heard anything about him and Miss Potts getting together, and now he felt like being a little nosy... He'd resist the urge though, just happy to see them being happy and holding hands in the front seat.

 

See, Tony Stark is not broke. Not even remotely close. If being broke was an island, Tony Stark would live on the moon.

That being said, as soon as the three of them walked into the makeup store, Tony pulled one of 15 credit cards from his wallet and handed it to Peter, saying nothing more than "I'm just happy to learn."

So, Pepper led both boys through the store with a smile and helped Peter check off the things he was missing. Foundation, concealer, pressed powders and the like. Peter kept looking at the cheaper stuff, but Tony kept reminding him that he was allowed to get whatever was the best, even if it was expensive. Tony had a lot of money that he could spend on Peter, and he wasn't going to let the boy forget it.

In just a short time their small basket had a nice size amount of stuff including concealer, foundation, color and spot correctors, bronzer, luminizer, and other things that Tony couldn't remember the name of. He didn't really care what Peter and Pepper picked up, he was just happy he'd get to shop for them both.

He sorta prefers their company to Bruce's now. Especially after what'd happened between them.

When Peter was missing, finding him was Tony's number one priority, which meant that he didn't have a ton of time to hang out with anyone, and everyone but Bruce understood. He complained that Tony wasn't making time for him anymore. After the third month of Peter being missing rolled around, Bruce began to insist that they were never going to find him and even suggested giving up the search.

Tony made time for him after that. Time to fight with him and argue that he couldn't just give up on the boy just because they hadn't found him yet. He knew the boy would be found eventually, no matter what Bruce thought.

And when they fought, Bruce got angry and the big guy almost got loose, but Tony didn't care. He kept fighting and arguing and eventually, he broke up with Bruce, and almost physically threw him out of the lab.

That was the last time he saw him, storming out of the lab, eyes half glowing and full of rage.

And he wants to badly to be wrong.


	72. seventy-two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky wants the truth, and he doesn't care what it'll take to get it. Peter thinks of a way to take matters into his own hands.
> 
> What do you guys think of this new Peter?

Dismounting the motorcycle, Bucky was already pissed off before he'd even reached the door. He passed his gun to Natalia and knelt down to unlock the large metal garage door. He slipped one of his metal fingers into a small metal hook and yanked.

The door rattled as it slid up the old rusted tracks and groaned when he pulled it still. Natalia slipped under the door and he did the same before pulling it back down to the ground with a clang and a cloud of dust.

There were a couple of loud clicks as Natalia flipped on the light switches. When Bucky turned, the lights had come on and there in the middle of the room was their prisoner. The cloth bag hid his face but they'd been doing this long enough to know that beneath it he was covered in crusted blood.

Bucky slammed his metal arm against a bunch of hanging chains to make a noise loud enough to get the prisoner's attention. Nat circled around the chair he was strapped to.

"Are you ready to talk yet? You may not get too many more chances. We're getting impatient and I'm really itching to cut out your tongue."

"Довольно. He will talk."

Crossing the room, he could see the prisoner hold his breath the closer that he got. He understood that it wasn't Natalia that he was afraid of. It was him. The prisoner was afraid of him and for good reason. After all they'd been through, it was only fitting that Bucky be the one person in the world to frighten this man.

Bucky'd spent far too long near this man in his life, and one way or another, Bucky was going to be the one to take him out. It's what he deserved. He deserved to finally die for everything he'd done in his miserable life.

For what he'd done to him. For what he'd done to Steve. To Peter. To Natalia.

He knelt down next to the chair and sucked in a breath. "You will talk, won't you? Because you and I both know I have _no_ problems with killing you. I don't think you mind though. You know that you deserve it. You deserve death, and so much more. You deserve to suffer! _You deserve to rot in fuckin' hell for what you've done!_ "

His voice was just barely short of a roar now as he yelled directly into the man's covered face. He glanced to Natalia, who, though nobody else would ever be able to tell, was beginning to look concerned. He pushed himself up, using his knees as leverage.

"You always knew it'd be me, didn't you, Brock?"

Bucky's eyes traveled upwards, not really focusing on anything as he lifted a gun from their makeshift table. Bucky thought this was incredibly similar to something that happened in one of those action movies that Peter showed him once. Where the 'good guys' had one of the bad guys trapped in some warehouse and were being all stoic and such... Really just proves how much of the stuff in those movies could actually happen in real life.

Though strapped to a chair and probably starving, Rumlow just laughed from beneath the bag. Now that Bucky was a safe distance away, he was able to put back up the wall that made him seem tough in the face of danger.

"Of course I knew, Barnes. You made it clear as goddamned water."

"Good. I'm glad you understand that one way or another, I will kill you."

Rumlow chuckled and leaned his head back. "You've tried. You've stabbed me, shot me... Your boyfriend dropped a building on me... And I'm still not dead yet. I don't think you want to kill me, I think you wanna be with me."

Bucky stormed across the room and stuck the barrel of his gun against Rumlow's throat. "No, you're not dead yet. But you put your hands on my son."

He pulled a large knife from its holster on his hip and brought it down on the wrist strapped to the chair. Rumlow screamed but Bucky just clicked his tongue and swung twice more, to make sure it came all the way off.

"You put your hands on my son, so now I'm going to cut them off... Among other things. Before I'm finished with you, you _will_ tell me the truth."

 

After leaving the makeup store, Pepper made sure to remind Tony that she needed to stop at one of the nearby outlet stores. Tony asks why they'd go to an outlet store when he's a billionaire and she laughs, reminding him that not everyone is a billionaire. He laughs and accepts by handing his card back to Peter and tells him he can buy whatever he wants. Peter asks if it'd be okay to buy some new clothes.

Pepper asks what happened to his old clothes and Peter sheepishly says that they're not really his style anymore, and the weight he's put on has distributed differently than before and his pants don't quite fit right anymore. She says that's perfectly fine and she'll help him pick out some new clothes and Tony leaves them to head to the car dealership just down the way to see what's new.

Once they're alone, Pepper asks if his clothes actually didn't fit. He says that he lied and they do fit, but he lied because he didn't want Tony to judge him.

Pepper looks at him like he's a small puppy and sighs. "Tony doesn't have any room to make fun of you for anything, Peter. So c'mon, what's the truth?"

Peter sighs as he follows her around and watches her look at pencil skirts. "I wanted to try a different style, I guess... Find something that made me fit into the family better. And... And I've always sorta liked the way the feminine clothes look, and I've always kinda wanted to wear them. Not like, be a girl, not that there's anything wrong with that, cause girls are awesome, but..."

She puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Peter, I understand. And there's nothing wrong with that at all. If you want to wear different clothes, we can get you some different clothes. It's no problem, and if Tony dares to say anything, I'll change his lab passcode for a week." She teases.

The boy can't help but laugh and had to admit that he felt a lot better now that he knew Pepper had his back. So, for the hour that Tony was gone, they went through the store and while Pepper had already picked out what she needed, they found new things for Peter.

They picked out a few good button-ups and nice dress pants, along with some more feminine looking tops and even a really gorgeous pantsuit that Pepper might be jealous of if she hadn't gotten one for herself in another color.

The boy that checked them out didn't even seem fazed, but that's most likely because he was much busier checking Peter out anyways. Peter was too engrossed in his story to notice, he was telling Pepper that he's supposed to have a date with a guy-not boy-a guy. He was wondering if she knew why everyone seemed so... Allowing of their relationship if Wade was supposed to be a bad guy.

She insisted that she didn't really know, but if they were letting him see this guy, then he must not be so bad after all. Peter took that thought and held it close. He didn't want to think Wade was a bad guy. He remembers watching the Avengers dragging him into the base, and he remembers that he wasn't fighting. He was barely even being restrained... But everyone was so badly injured, someone had to do it.

Maybe someone else was all behind it and they were using Wade as a pawn in their game. Peter didn't want to play the game anymore, but they needed to find the king and deliver the ultimate checkmate. He didn't know what it would take to do so, but he'd be willing to help the only way he knew how.

He needed to get information, and he knew just who to ask.


	73. seventy-three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets an unexpected guest. Said guest nearly gets kicked through a window.

The day spent with Mr. Stark and Pepper was nice. They went shopping and Pepper made sure to help Peter sort his things into his own bags so he wouldn't accidentally leave without something of his.

Mr. Stark asked if everything he'd bought was enough or if there was more he was looking to get today. Peter told him that he had all he needed for now and then Mr. Stark took him to Ikea to look at Vanity options. They'd looked at some ideas and Tony said he'd put something together to surprise him, and Peter said okay.

After that, they went to a nice fancy restaurant that Peter would never be able to afford to go into otherwise and they had a really nice meal together. He was always a part of the conversation and he left the restaurant pleasantly full.

He told the pair that he had plans to watch a movie and then head to bed once they dropped him off, and they decided they might just do that when they get home as well. Pepper says she's really glad that she got to meet him properly finally, and he agrees and says they should hang out again sometime. She says they'll make it a point to get together sometime soon and he walks upstairs to his floor.

He unlocked the door and dropped the keys on the table just inside the door before kicking off his shoes. He tossed his bags onto his bed on his way into the bathroom. He washed off his face and paused as he thought he heard shuffling in the other room.

He wiped his face on his jacket sleeve before stepping into the doorway and peering into his dark room. Even though there was no other light than that coming from the bathroom, he could clearly see a man's shadow standing in front of the window next to his bed.

Some instinct of his told him to lunge over and kick the man right out the window, and he tried, but the man easily jumped over him and when he spun around he saw a blonde man staring down at him.

"Who the hell are you?"

The man feigned hurt, "Damn, you don't' recognize us? It's probably hard, I know, here."

Peter watched in mild horror as a thick, tar-like black mass spread from the man's body and took the shape of a face. Not a regular face, but a twisted one with glowing white eyes and sharp teeth, and-

"I'm dreaming, aren't I? There's no way you're real... You're from a dream."

"That was not a dream." The head said, it's long tongue passing between its teeth.

Peter took a step back and was flush with the window.

"There is nowhere else to go." The head spoke again. It seemed like it was smirking at him, but he tried to avoid looking at it, instead, looking to the blonde. Realization washed over him like waves of the ocean.

"You're Eddie Brock... I've seen your show..."

The blonde nodded and so did the head. Peter just stared, unsure of what to look at or to say.

"Good. You know who I am, so you know what I do."

Peter nodded and let the man keep speaking.

"This is Venom, or, I guess you know him as VX9103, don't you?"

Peter's eyes widened as he pointed to the head. "You're the Symbiote that Wade stole."

"That Wade freed."

Peter shook his head again and turned back to the blonde man. "Why are you here, then?"

He watched as the head disappeared against Eddie's skin and saw the man pull a cell phone from his pocket. "Guard this with your life, Peter. Once you know what's on it, you'll know when you need to use it. Use it too early, and you could get yourself killed. Call me as soon as you turn it over."

Peter nodded, though he didn't understand yet.

Eddie stepped around him to the window and then paused. "Oh, and you might want this." Eddie pulled a large syringe from inside his jacket and put it into his hands. 

"What's this for?"

"That's for you. You'll want to use it sooner, rather than later. Don't let them know you've got it back."

Peter shook his head and held it close to him. "Don't let who know?"

Eddie, halfway out the window turned back and as he spoke, Peter could hear the Symbiote's voice. "Anyone."

With that, the pair dropped down out of the window and out of sight, leaving Peter confused, and with some very big choices to make.


	74. seventy-four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is confused... And then he is angry.

Peter didn't quite know what to do right now. He had a cellphone in one hand and a syringe in the other. He had a date with Wade tomorrow and his parents were upstairs probably wondering why he hadn't greeted them yet.

He needed to act as natural as possible. Peter always prided himself on his acting as he rarely ever got caught, but these guys were the best of them all and they would be the ultimate test of his acting skills. They'd been fooled before, but this was all new territory to Peter.

He pulled the photo of him and May from the wall, eyes squeezed shut as he did so. This would be the first time he'd opened the little hole in the wall since he'd been home. He wasn't sure what was inside anymore.

It looked almost like a shrine or a shitty memory box... Maybe it was meant to be a memory box. Maybe old Peter had a feeling that he wouldn't come home. He quickly stuffed the phone and syringe inside and closed it up tight, replacing the picture before going upstairs to visit his 'family'.

He knocked a little, but the door opened before he was even finished and Wanda was there with a smile, Vision on her arm. They'd just returned from their date and they looked as happy as can be. Sometimes he wonders how they make it work, but he knows that's their business, and no matter how close he and Wanda are, he's not about to pry into her love life.

He walked around them and into the kitchen, stealing an apple from the bowl on the counter. He bit into the apple and leaned on the counter in front of him and smiled up at Steve when he passed through the room. "Hey Pops, how was work?"

Steve chuckles a little, "It was alright. How was hanging out with Tony?"

Peter nods as he takes another bite of the fruit. "Yeah, it was good. We had Pepper with us. We went shopping."

Steve raises a brow and smiles a little. "Yea? You get something to wear out tomorrow?"

Peter nods again before Steve pauses. "Buck said he wanted to talk to you when you got home, but he's not exactly in the best mood, so I'd be careful if I were you."

His brows knit together in confusion but he thanks Steve and makes his way back to the bedroom, knocking gently before entering. In the chair by the window sits Bucky with Natasha on his lap. They're murmuring quietly in Russian and Peter can't quite make out what they're saying, even with the little bit of Russian that he does know. He contemplates reaching up and turning his hearing-aid up but by the time the thought crosses his mind they've stopped talking and turned to him.

"Peter. We need to tell you something. You might want to sit down."

He stays silent and sits on the corner of their bed, facing them with a face of stone. He wonders what they know. He knows they're the two best spies on the planet, but for now, he'd be the innocent child they thought he was.

Bucky clears his throat and sighs a little. "We know where the doctor is."

Those six words were all it took in order to shift the whole room around them. The air thickened and Peter's breath stilled. They'd found him. Finally, after all of this time.

"Where?"

"He's moving fast. He has been for months, but he has a pattern. He'll be in Italy next week."

Peter nodded and wiped his palms on his jeans. "I'm going with you... I'm going to make that motherfucker pay for what he did to me."

Nat says that torturing the man won't bring May back, and he tells her that he knows that. "I'm not going to torture him. I'm going to kill him."

Nat looks a bit shocked for a moment and then repeats that violence won't bring May back, and once again he agrees because he knows that.

"No, it won't bring her back. But I'll be damned if it doesn't make me feel better."

 

Exactly one week later in Montepulciano, Italy, on the steps of San Biagio, they waited. The "Doctor" was meant to be inside in _exactly_ 12 minutes and 13 seconds. So they waited. "They" consisted of Peter, Bucky, and Wade, for emotional support. They were sporting civvies and hidden weapons.

Peter was fully aware of the fact that his face would give them away the quickest and he did his best to keep it hidden, not that he really looked all that much like himself right now anyways. His jeans were snug around his thighs and his hair was curled against his shoulders and his face was contoured well enough that unless you knew Peter Parker was under the makeup, you'd have no clue that he wasn't a woman.

Peter knew that Bucky was watching for the man, which was good because Bucky had a better eagle eye than he did, and he also had a longer attention span than Wade did. Wade at the moment, was being quiet for once, or at least Peter thinks he is... Maybe his hearing-aid isn't turned up all of the way?

He glances up to Wade who is indeed being very quiet, just people-watching. Peter leans into his side and watches a smile break out on his face. Wade turns and he feels the older man kiss his head and he sighs softly in near content before he suddenly remembers why they're there and what he's about to do.

He was about to kill the bastard that made him an orphan. He was going to kill the man that forced his hands and killed the last of his own blood family. He was going to kill him, and he wasn't going to be sorry. Not for anything, not to anyone. He wouldn't even entertain the idea of being any kind of remorseful. Not for Steve, or Nat, not even for fucking God.

Unless there was some real divine intervention, there was no way in hell that this wasn't all part of God's brilliant plan. Right now Peter didn't give a shit what the man upstairs wanted, and he wouldn't ask to be forgiven for this, because this was not a sin. Wiping this human shit-stain off of the Earth was his civic duty and he would not pretend to be sorry. He was about to do God a favor in sending that bastard down to Hell early. God could thank him later.

The moment he spotted the "doctor" he felt the anger and power surge through his veins all at once. He knew his chance was coming in just a few short minutes and he was ready. He was ready to put an end to the man who brought him all of this suffering. He was going to get payback for his suffering. He'd avenge Aunt May.

He'd make his bloodline proud.


	75. seventy-five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter doesn't know if he wants to pull the trigger. He doesn't know if he can. //Meet our resident bad guy.
> 
> Sorry about how long it's been, I'm trying to pack up to move in a couple of months on top of still trying to graduate.

Following the doctor inside the church was easy. He was preoccupied with his phone and it was easy to tell he'd never been taught that looking over his shoulder should be second nature. It was clear this guy had probably never been tailed like this in his life, and with the coating Stark made for the bottom of their shoes, their footsteps were literally silent anyways.

Peter didn't look nervous in the slightest. If anything he looked more than ready to take on whatever may come at him today, and it kinda worried Bucky. Something about all of this wasn't sitting right with him, and he was prepared for this to be some kind of trap.

Wade seemed to be thinking the same thing just by the way he hung back a couple of steps behind Peter. He'd already been told that if shit hit the fan, Peter was their top priority, as he didn't have powers anymore.

Peter himself was somewhat skeptical, but he couldn't let Bucky's insecurities about this mission transfer to him. He had to stay collected and sane, there was no room for error today. Who knows when they might get another chance like this?

At one point, Bucky asked him if he was sure he wanted the kill for himself, as they were in a church and Peter'd been going to church for a little bit now, but Peter's only reaction to the question was, _it's better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission_. He wasn't any kind of worried about killing a man in the house of God in the slightest, and that made Bucky worry.

Right now it was almost like Peter was the one who'd been brainwashed by Hydra, and maybe he had. Nobody but Peter really knew the severity of what'd happened to him. They never thought it would be alright to ask, in the grand scheme of things he hasn't been home with them for very long. He still wasn't even fully healed in some places like his leg. Bucky thinks it's taking all the kid has to walk without a limp.

Bucky's focused on Peter so much that he doesn't notice what's in front of him at first, he just notices that Peter stops moving and looks like he's having the shock of his life.

It wasn't until Bucky followed his gaze did he understand why.

There, looking directly back at him, was the last person he'd ever expect.

"You don't have Anthony with you, do you?" he asked.

Bucky couldn't think of anything to say to that, but Peter spoke up.

"It's you! You're the one!"

The man spoke again. "Is Anthony with you?"

Peter shook his head. He couldn't believe his ears. "Mr. Banner... I trusted you. I believed in you!"

Bruce fixed his glasses. "Well, that's your mistake, kid. It's a good thing Tony isn't with you, I'd hate to have to kill him too."

"Too?"

Bruce laughed and waved his hand. "Don't bother with your gun, James, you know it won't work on me. And yes, too. I can't let you walk out of here knowing that I'm your big bad villain. I think you all forget, I'm not stupid."

Peter flicked his wrist and suddenly Bruce's arm was webbed to his stomach and the doctor was webbed to the wall. Bruce looked surprised.

"Ah, Peter... I was hoping you'd never don those web-shooters again."

Peter shook his head. "You wanted me dead! You tried to kill me!"

Bruce looked frustrated and Bucky wanted nothing more than to kill Bruce where he stood. But he wouldn't. Bruce was Steve's friend, and he wouldn't be any kind of opposed to letting Peter get his answers. He deserved them after all, and Bruce wasn't trying to run.

"No! I tried to save you! I~"

"You let them torture me! You let them beat me! And all I ever did was trust you!" Peter screamed. Wade reached out for the boy's shoulder, but Peter yanked himself away and stepped towards Bruce, who had something in his eyes that Bucky couldn't place. "You stole me from everything! My whole life, gone like that!" Peter snapped his fingers, now directly in front of Bruce's face.

"You let them touch me! Stab me! Prod me, push me, keep me in a box! You let Rumlow touch me like I was nothing more than some cheap hooker! _You made me kill May!_ "

Bruce just stared down at the angry boy in front of him, silent, unmoving.

"Wait until I tell Mr. Stark about this... Wait until he hears that I had to kill you because you betrayed us all!"

Bruce shook his head. "I can't let you tell him, and if it means I go down with you, so be it."

Peter looked confused now, and before Wade could even step forward, Bruce swung his arm up and smacked the switch in his webbed hand.

 _"Get to Peter!"_ Was all that Bucky could manage to say as the building began to rumble around them. Wade was closer, he knew he'd make it first no matter how quick they both were. Even as he himself tried to make it to the young boy, something black caught the corner of his eye and then the whole room shook hard enough to knock him off of his feet.

He fell, colliding with the collapsing marble, and when he looked up all he could see was Peter still trying to swing his knife on Bruce and Wade being knocked to the floor by the force of the quaking around them. Bucky rolled onto his back and his eyes widened as he saw a large portion of the ceiling falling towards him. He rolled as quickly as he could but his screams ripped through the sound of the crumbling building as his metal arm was crushed beneath the heavy rubble.

He blacked out from the pain, the last thing he heard was Peter screaming his name.


	76. seventy-six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's pretty hazy.
> 
> So, it's short, but at least it's a chapter.

When Bucky awoke, the first thing he noticed was the throbbing pain in his head, then all at once, the pain from all over his body hit him like waves beating against rocks on the shore. His legs ached and his chest felt heavy, and above all of that, his arm was on fucking fire. When he looked down, he felt the panic rise in him like bile when he saw that it was gone, no trace of the vibranium in sight.

Somewhere in his mind, he was back in the snow at the bottom of a cliff after the fall he thought would be his last. Somewhere in his mind, he was panicking at the thought of being trapped again... They both were. Despite being two totally different people trapped in one mind and body, they both had one common enemy, and that was Hydra. They wouldn't let themselves be captured again.

He tried to sit up only to be yanked back to the bed. When he looked, he saw the thick leather strap holding him captive, but the wild breath in him was slowed when he heard a voice calling his name. He wasn't sure where exactly to look for it, so he just looked wildly in search of the voice he seemed to know.

Finally, directly to his left was another bed with the young boy he recognized. He was strapped down too, and maybe for good reason, he looked erratic, on the brink of tears.

It was like something in him, in them, snapped into place and the panic was replaced by worry. Why was he strapped down? How long had they been here? Where was here? Was Peter okay?

He called out to the boy, who seemed to just be repeating his name to himself. What he was saying sounded eerily familiar, and it was only after a moment of really straining to hear the boy's rambling did he manage to hear him correctly. 

"Parker-Rogers-Romanoff-Barnes-Stark, Peter Benjamin, 435106S560."

Bucky almost wanted to smile, not just because the boy had taken on and added all of the last names to his own, but the fact that he was using his passport number in place of a serial number. But hearing the boy's hoarse voice made him go back to being worried instead.

"Peter."

The boy flinched and turned his head to look and when Bucky saw his face he was nothing but angry. The right side of Peter's face was bruised and swollen and his eyes were full of tears. Bucky could only imagine the pain he must be in, and what the extent of his injuries might be.

Peter's bottom lip quivered as Bucky took in the sight of the straps holding him to the hospital bed, and Bucky wanted nothing more than to be out of his bed to hold the boy.

Peter's broken voice called "Dad," and Bucky struggled against his restraint. He could get out of here, if only he had his other arm...

"Peter, what happened? Where are we?"

Peter shook his head. "Wade and... And Eddie. They saved us. We would've been killed..."

"Who the hell is Eddie?"

The door opened and in stepped a tired looking blonde, munching on a sandwich. "Sleeping Beauty's finally awake, huh? Good. I'm here to tell you what your problem is. Your Banner guy? Not the top tier. If you arrest him, I don't think you'll ever catch the real big bad."

And Bucky, poor guy, just turns to look at Peter. "Who in the fuck is this guy?"


	77. seventy-seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What In The Fuck Is Even Happening?
> 
> Sorry, everything is taking so long and I'm only coming out with short chapters, I'm in the process of trying to graduate and also trying to pack in order to move out after graduation.

"Eddie, will you get these off of me?" Peter pleaded, watching as the blonde glanced behind him before walking over and undoing the leather straps. "Where are we?"

"A hospital in Italy. The straps were for the doctors. You guys swing like motherfuckers in your sleep."

Peter just nodded and massaged his wrists. Bucky finally spoke again. "Forget about that, where's my fucking arm?"

Eddie stared in his direction before muttering something-probably to Venom- before actually responding. "Vibranium is strong, but it can still only take so much. It was crushed, I know you felt it. Now, who do you trust?"

Bucky looked between the man, and Peter's now less bruised face. "What do you mean?"

"It's important, think of the people you love, can you trust them? If your life was on the line, would you trust them to save you?"

Bucky didn't hesitate to say yes, and no sooner than he did was a small flip phone tossed his way. A burner. He knew he was meant to call them, and he didn't hesitate to begin dialing Steve's number.

Across the room, Eddie knelt on Peter's bed and touched the boy's healing face. "Seems like it's working so far. How do you feel?"

Peter just shrugged. "I've had worse... But you knew that already, didn't you?"

Eddie shushed the boy and nodded towards Bucky. "What do you think won't heal?"

Peter did a mental assessment of his injuries. His leg didn't feel any different and he thinks his limp might last forever. He was still mostly deaf in one ear, especially since his hearing aid was missing entirely now. Mr. Stark might be mad that he lost a second one already. Even at just a short glance, he could tell that some of his smaller scars had faded entirely, leaving nice undamaged patches of skin in some places.

"Some of the worse scars, the ear... Maybe the ear, I'm not sure yet."

Eddie nods and tucks the boy's hair behind his ear before pausing, shaking his head, and getting up. Peter pays no mind before asking where Wade is. Eddie says he's gone out to get some food and Peter just nods again, yawning quietly.

Bucky tosses Eddie's phone back to him before turning to Peter. "Tired?"

The boy nods and shivers a little. Even Bucky admits it's a little cold. Bucky stands, taking his blanket over to the boy. "Here, cover up. I'm warm enough, but I can't risk you getting another cold."

Peter smiles gratefully and curls up a little, wincing at the pain coursing through his body. He could handle it, he always does. He learned from the best how to hide it, even if they thought no one else knew of their pain. Peter always knew, he just tried not to ask unless it was so painfully obvious it was like they were begging for help, for comfort. He wanted them to trust him enough to come to him first. That's how it should've been.

Bucky was still wary of Eddie. He watched the exhausted looking blonde as he hovered around the door, muttering quietly to himself and munching on a piece of candy that seemingly came from nowhere.

He had no fucking clue who this guy was and where he came from, but he seemed to know more than they did, and Peter seemed to trust him... And he did have a hand in saving their lives, so there was that. He didn't want to owe this stranger his life, but as of right now, it didn't seem like he had much of a choice.

"So what happened to Bruce? Did he die?"

Eddie, moderately shocked that he was being spoken to, blinked a couple of times and then shook his head. "Uh, oh, no, no, he's not. He got out, I'm sorry. It was either him or Peter, and, well... Kind of a no-brainer, yea?"

Bucky nodded a little, silently agreeing before pointing to the empty space at his side. "What happened to it?"

Eddie hummed around more candy. "They took it aside, they're keeping it put up. Not cause they don't trust you, I asked them to."

"Why?"

Eddie shrugged. "We had a feeling."

Bucky rose a brow, "We?"


	78. seventy-eight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ????????????????????????

Eddie offered Bucky a half ate candy bar from his jacket pocket. It was slightly warm, a little bent, but it was probably all they had until Wade returned from wherever the hell he managed to escape to.

He took it, grateful, chocolate always seemed to do the trick for just about everything. He didn't really think there was a wrong time for chocolate. He took a bite and hummed a little before looking to the tired man beside him. "My apologies, my introduction seems to have been interrupted by some C4, my name is-"

"James Barnes. I know."

He nodded, "From the news, huh?"

He was a little shocked when the guy shook his head no. "No dude, from the museums, from the history."

"Nah, I don't think I made it into much of that..." Bucky knew what this was. It was flattery, being used in a way to distract from one of his earlier questions. Bucky knew the signs, he was no idiot. This man had a secret, and that was dangerous. He made easy work of changing the subject to something else, a common factor.

"How did you get Peter his healing abilities back?"

It was Eddie's turn to look confused. "How'd you uh, h-how'd you know it was me, exactly?"

Bucky smirks and takes another bite from the candy bar. "I didn't, until just now, but I had a hunch. It's amazing you're so good at your job, falling for a trick like that."

"Can't say I've had 70 years of practice either, sir."

Bucky scoffed a little, "You don't have to call me 'sir' you know?"

"Mr. Barnes, then, I-" The man paused and wiped his hands on his sweat-stained jacket before excusing himself from the room. Too tired to pursue him, Bucky just sighed and turned to look at Peter's now nearly entirely healed face. It was no secret he had his powers back, especially now.

It was less of a secret to Bucky because he's the one who helped Peter inject the damn serum in the first place. This boy was the physical embodiment of Steve Rogers' recklessness and Tony Stark's genius all tightly wrapped up in one little body and two giant blankets. He ran his only remaining hand through the boy's knotted hair.

"I wanted to keep you away from this life, kid... Seems like all we've done is drag you into it... No more, Petey. I want you to be done with this. Powers or not, I want you as far away from this as possible... If I have to move you to Alaska, I will, you hear?" He sighed and shook his head. "Maybe not that far, but I want you safe, and I know Tony and Steve do too, hell, they all do... I'm gonna get you out of this life... I promise."

 

When the door opened again, Peter was still sleeping, but Eddie was beckoning him out into the hallway. Slowly, he agreed, wondering what the hell this could be about. He quietly made his way after Eddie, who led him just down the hallway and into a small waiting area.

"Mr. Barnes, this is who we've been waiting for, this is-"

The man stood, a soft smile on his face. "King T'Challa, of Wakanda."

And Bucky suddenly realized that he was standing here in front of _literal_ royalty looking nothing shy of a fucking hobo and his cheeks flushed as he reached his hand out to shake, "Your Highness, a pleasure."

The king shakes his hand firmly, though his face shows nothing but politeness. "I was told you may be in need of some help. Wakanda's borders are not currently open to outsiders, but I believe in this case I can make an exception, should you choose to accept."

And Bucky's head was spinning, not just from the pain coursing through his body, but from trying to wrap his head around what the hell this guy was even saying to him, his words weren't exactly registering properly. T'Challa glanced back to a woman sat on the seat next to where he'd just been and she shrugged a little before crossing her arms. Bucky could already tell that she would be a force to be reckoned with, should he piss her off somehow and it freaked him out a little.

The king took one look at his face and chuckled, "Do not mind Okoye. She doesn't bite... Always."

Bucky didn't feel any better but he appreciated the humor, staying silent to allow the prince to continue. "I'm here to offer a place for you and your young son inside of our borders. I can offer you safety, a sense of normality, jobs, a home. Anything you might need for the time you stay with us."

Bucky knew when a deal sounded too good to be true, and this did just that. "What's the catch?"

T'Challa looked momentarily put-off before recovering. "I merely wish to offer you a home with us... In return for assistance from your son."

"Assistance?"

"Your son is nothing short of a genius, and although my own sister is very smart on her own, she has wished for a second opinion, and mine will not do."

"So you came here because you want my son to work for you?"

"That is only a bonus, should you accept. My offer still exists if he does not wish to assist. "

And Bucky had to consider it. Of course, he did. A safe place for Peter? A mostly normal life? It's all he's wanted for the boy since he came into his care, but of course, he wasn't Peter's only parent. He couldn't just decide on his own.

"Would you mind if I waited for my fiance to come? I'd like to see how he feels about this."

"Of course. Okoye and I will venture to the Starbucks..." He glanced to the woman who nodded, "Down the street while you deliberate with your partner. Take all the time you need, we're here for the week."

And with that, they left, not looking back once, and smiling at everyone as they passed. And Bucky's only coherent thought as he watched them go was, _What in the fuck just happened?_


	79. seventy-nine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uuuuuhhhhh.....?

Bucky more than certainly got an earful once Steve and Natalia arrived at the hospital. Rather than just one of them getting onto him, they both did, and they weren't exactly gentle about it. They got onto him for being so reckless, for not letting them come as back up, for getting injured, and more importantly (apparently) getting Peter injured.

It wasn't as if he didn't already feel fucking horrible for what happened, but they weren't making it any better. They just chewed into him for over an hour without break, and he just stood there and took it in silence. There was nothing he could say, so he wouldn't try to defend himself. There's no reason that he'd try. He was a glutton for pain, and he deserved to be yelled at. He knew that he did.

He could've gotten Peter killed. He promised to get Peter out of this life, and he took him right back into the line of fire. He deserved their anger. Peter could have died today, and for what? They were no closer to the end than they had been before.

Steve was ready to go out right now and find Bruce, but all Bucky could do was protest. If there was someone above Bruce, then they needed to find out who, and they knew that arresting Bruce wasn't the way to find out. They needed Bruce, which was _so fucked_.

After the pair had finally calmed down, Bucky took the time to tell them about the offer to live in Wakanda, wherever that was. He told them about how he was promised a normal life for Peter, a safe place where he wouldn't be in danger all the time like he was now. A place for him to grow and thrive. And the looks on their faces made it seem like they really were considering it.

Their consideration of the idea shot through the roof when T'Challa returned to the hospital waiting room, politely introduced himself, and then politely answered all of the questions Steve could think of. Wakanda wasn't quite like the rest of the world, but they still considered themselves very modern and farther ahead of the rest of the world as far as electronics and science went.

Natalia seemed pleased as T'Challa promised them that if Peter joined them, he would still be able to attend his classes and earn his points towards graduation, and maybe even graduate early if he did well enough. He could work and earn money, he would have a clean place to live and good food to eat. He would be treated just like everyone else, like family. He and Bucky both.

And of course, they would not be trapped there. They would be free to leave for travel and other things whenever they pleased. They would be equals.

And Bucky didn't want to refuse, it sounded amazing. Steve and Natalia took some time to deliberate the idea for a while before deciding that if Bucky wanted to do it, then it would be done, and he didn't hesitate to accept.

 

They were finally going to start over.

Peter would be safe, and Bucky would finally get away...


	80. eighty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uh-oh spaghetti-o's

Peter awoke in the hospital to a reminder going off on his mostly undamaged cell phone. The cracked screen told him that his Hydra escape was just a little over two months ago, a fact that he couldn't even focus on because not only did he feel sick, but because he heard the voice of a woman that wasn't Nat.

He shifted to leave the bed but slipped a little and fell right out onto the cold tile. He heard an, 'oh my god' from somewhere and the door beside him opened up. Nat herself, or, he thought, he couldn't be sure, grabbed onto him and he pointed to the small bathroom's door. She seemed to take the hint as he gagged and she all but dragged his ass to the toilet.

They made it in time for him to hurl and despite her steely exterior and everything she'd ever seen, Nat still thought puke was fucking gross. She thinks that maybe it's a good thing she doesn't have any of her own children since she can't stand vomit. She turned her back to Peter as he threw up and settled for leaving the tiny bathroom all together after a moment.

Peter didn't understand why he felt so sick all of a sudden either. Was it the thought of only being free of Hydra for so long, or was it the trauma of what just happened catching up to him? How long has it even been? How long was he asleep?

Once he finally finished up with emptying his already empty stomach, he clawed his way to his feet and back into the hospital room where he saw Bucky and Steve waiting for him, wrapped up in one another's arms... Or, arm, in Bucky's case.

On the bed he just rolled off of, he saw a healthy looking Aunt May, though by now he knew to just ignore her. He knew that he probably just had some kind of head injury, probably nothing more than a concussion. He'd be fine, eventually.

Though, he felt totally blindsided when fucking Team Stucky dropped the big bomb that he'd be moving again, to someplace he'd never been to before in a totally different part of the world. He couldn't believe his ears. Head trauma or not, this sounded like some bullshit.

"Wait, so you're both gonna put this blind faith in someone you just met, after someone you've both known for years literally just tried to fucking _kill_ us?"

"What'd we say about cussing, Peter?" Nat asked gently from the other side of the window.

He scoffed and crossed his arms, "You said not to do it, but it's still fucked."

She was silent. She wasn't going to argue with him, not right now. Not when she was trying to handle the fact that he was just going to be up and swept away again without hardly any notice whatsoever. She was getting fed up with this life of theirs.

"Be that as it may," Steve started, "we're not really in a position to pass on new allies. We need all the help we can get, and if this guy can get you out of the line of fire, Peter, you can damn-well believe that I'm going to trust him."

Peter just stood there, feeling defeated. he was finally starting to feel normal, and now all of that is getting tossed out of the window once again. When would it all stop? He just wanted it to be still, it all went so _fast_.

"Peter?"

They sounded so far away, and, the room is too fast, sit, sit... Fall. He fell. He didn't try to catch himself, he just fell straight down onto the tile like a bag of bricks. He was out before he even touched the ground.

 

When he woke again, head pounding harshly, he was in a dimly lit room that somehow resembled a hospital room, but clearly was not. The beeping machine beside of him seemed far too loud for the space that he was occupying by himself, but there was clearly nothing that he could do about it right now beyond ignoring it.

The wall opposite him was lined with windows and outside he could see the sun cresting the horizon, but it was unclear to him if it was rising or setting. He had no bearings, and it was disorienting as fuck.

He called out, but his voice was weak. In some miracle, he heard footsteps approaching him and he saw Bucky, looking a bit more tired than when they last saw one another. Peter asked where the hell they were, and Bucky answered with exactly what Peter didn't want to hear.

According to Bucky, they were already into Wakanda, and they were currently in one of the medbays. When Peter asked why Bucky ran his remaining hand through his hair. "You collapsed, in Italy. The doctors there couldn't find anything wrong with you, so we brought you here. The technology and medicine are so advanced, I thought they'd have to find something."

"And? What the hell is wrong with me?"

Bucky sighed heavily and hesitated for a long minute before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper and slipping it into Peter's hands. "This is a lot to handle, but I'm right here for you, Petey, no matter what."

And poor Peter, more confused now than before, took the paper and unfolded it... And he just stared, with and empty, blank face and heart. He couldn't comprehend exactly what he was looking at, though he could see it clear as day.

Right there, in the little paper on his hands, was a sonogram, for what he could only assume was a baby, though it looked like nothing more than a grey blob, and on the corners of the paper were records of the heartbeat, current growing weight, and the prediction of sex based on the blob being on the bottom right side.

Peter looked up at Bucky before looking back to the paper and with a quivering voice asked, "Is this...?"

Bucky just nodded a little. "It's yours, Peter."


	81. eighty-one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ..... .....  
>  there's smut in this one  
> ..... .....

Peter continued to stare blankly at the photos in his hand for a very long time. He could see May standing across the room, with her hands in the pockets of her sundress. She was smiling, for some fucking reason. How could she be so fucking happy about this? This could be the end of Peter completely.

Peter felt like his life was so fucked right now. A baby? He was carrying a fucking baby in a country he'd never been to, surrounded by people that he didn't know, and-

"Oh no..."

Bucky looked up at him. "What?" His brows were knitted together in confusion and worry due to the tone of Peter's voice.

"This... Baby, his father..."

Bucky shook his head. "I'm sure Wade could make a great father if you kept him in line well enough."

Peter shook his head. "No, he couldn't, because Wade's not the father."

 

Back in New York, Steve and Tony were sitting in a tiny cafe down in the southside of Brooklynn. The weather was nice and so was the coffee, and the company was pretty good too.

Tony could see Steve's heart-eyes at him, and the look made his heart swell a little... But he knew that it's just how Steve looked at him, it didn't mean anything. Steve and Bucky were engaged now, he ruined his chance, he knew. It hurt him to even look at Steve now because he finally realized just how much he really loved Steve and he ruined it.

But Steve was still being so kind to him, he was listening intently and giving him all of the attention, even when the waitress tried flirting with him. It was like their first date all over again, which occurred in his very shop.

Right now they were just talking, and it was gentle and it was _nice_. He missed being with Steve like this... Sitting here across from the gorgeous blonde, all Tony wanted to do was lean over and kiss him right on his beautiful lips.

If Tony were drinking, he'd want Steve to take him home and rail him into next Tuesday. But he wasn't drinking, and he kinda wanted Steve to rail him anyways. The thought makes Tony shift in his seat and try to hide his blush with his coffee cup.

If Steve noticed, he wasn't sure. (He did notice.)

Steve, however, had an ulterior motive to being here with Tony right now. He was following Natasha's style of getting information... Sorta, he really did want to be here with Tony. He could tell by the blush on the brunette's cheeks that Tony wanted to be here with him too, if not in bed with him.

Steve, ever the gentleman, paid for their coffee and gently asked Tony if he wanted to go back to his apartment and watch the new season of _Game Of Thrones_. Tony accepted and drove them to the tall apartment building. The ride was quiet but peaceful.

 

Back at the apartments, Steve set up the newest season on DVD and sat back on the couch with Tony, arm thrown casually over the back of the couch. Tony shifted a little and tucked his foot underneath himself.

Steve was plainly aware of Tony scooting a little closer to him every once in a while, but that's exactly what he wanted. When one of the many sex scenes came on the screen, Steve couldn't miss the blush on Tony's cheeks or the way that Tony's eyes made their way to his crotch.

Tony bit his lips and Steve glanced from Tony's face to his own crotch and Tony took that as an incentive to reach down and rub Steve's dick through his jeans. Steve shifted his hips a little, arching up into Tony's hand.

Tony unzipped Steve's jeans and pulled out his hefty length, wasting no time in leaning down and wrapping his lips around it. Steve reached a hand down and threaded his finger's through Tony's hair the way he knew Tony liked and gave the ends a little tug.

After letting go of Tony's hair, Steve reached a hand down and grabbed Tony's absolutely delectable ass, bringing a whine out of the other man's mouth. Tony pulled away in favor of being able to take his pants off. Steve pulled his own down as well and pulled Tony into his lap.

Tony gripped onto Steve's shoulders while he straddled him and Steve gripped the younger man's thighs. They held eye contact as Tony lowered his hips and allowed Steve to fill him. The stretch was painful, but he missed it. His jaw dropped as he took Steve in to the hilt and all Steve could do was gasp and how fucking _tight_ Tony was.

Tony, the little fucking slut that he was, wasted zero time in trying to bounce on Steve's cock, but Steve wasn't having it just yet. He gripped the man's hips to slow him down and they started up a slow, sensual pace that had Tony nearly fucking drooling at how good he felt.

Steve, despite Tony's whining protests, kept it going slow. He knew just how to make him fall apart, and by God was he already doing it.

By the time they were finished, they were hot and sweaty and breathless, and Tony was tired and that was fine. He helped Tony clean up and watched as he fell asleep on the couch. Soon as he was out, Steve stepped out onto the balcony and called Bucky.

"Hey. I've got it."


	82. eighty-two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a really good mood today so I'm going to grind a couple of chapters for you guys xx

Back in Wakanda, Peter was curled up in his 'hospital' bed and simply staring at the wall across from him. He'd wrapped himself up in the blankets and that was the last time he'd moved in many hours. Bucky had been in several times, only trying at conversation once or twice before realizing that Peter wasn't going to respond.

Some doctor had come in a couple of times, but he didn't bother speaking to Peter, which was fine. He wasn't in the mood to speak, all he wanted to do was sleep, but it just wouldn't come to him and it was pissing him off.

He just wanted to sleep and ignore his problems. Specifically, the one that was supposed to be growing inside of him at this very moment. He was going to have a baby, him, a dude, was going to have a baby. And no matter what, the baby would be in danger for its whole life because _Hydra_ wanted this baby. This isn't something Peter wanted, not for a very long time anyways.

Hydra wanted this baby, Hydra wanted him to have this baby. He didn't get to choose. He didn't even get to choose the father of this baby, and that would haunt him forever. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to _keep_ this baby in the first place. That's really what he's been debating all of this time instead of sleeping.

Would anyone look down on him for not wanting to keep it? Could he really live with himself if he did? What would Aunt May think? He wished he had her perspective right now.

As if some sort of miracle, he saw her out of the corner of his eye, and she was smiling like always and she looked happy just like she used to. It made him literally sick to his stomach and he had to curl up and hurl into the bucket that'd been placed by his bed.

"Oh Peter, you're such a mess." She said softly.

She wasn't real, but he scoffed anyways. "Yeah, thanks. Last I saw, you didn't look so great either."

Her smile didn't falter, but she spoke again anyways. "I still only have limited responses. Sarcasm is not in my dialogue options yet."

"You seem to be doing just fine." He sighed as he laid back. He looked at the small ring on his right ring finger, the only thing that made this May even remotely real. She wasn't anything but a hologram produced by Peter's hippocampus. Out of all of the things he's invented, this one had to be one of the worst ones.

It was his worst invention, just because it tortured him so. And at the moment, it was configured so he was the only one to see her. He was the only one allowed to see her. He had to live with this guilt. He had to live with seeing her there, smiling and kind, despite what he did to her.

"I apologize for distressing you."

He shook his head. "No, you're alright... I think I'll just take you off for now, though."

She nods her head, though she didn't get much of a choice, and disappeared the moment Peter wrestled the ring off of his finger. He sighed. He needed to remember not to think about her while wearing the ring, as that was what brought her forward. He just dropped the ring onto the bed beside him and curled back up.

 

Meanwhile, back in Brooklyn, Tony was finally leaving Steve's apartment and heading home to Pepper. Steve knew now that Tony didn't know that Bruce was in with Hydra, and he kept it so that Tony didn't find out from him anyways. Steve waited until Tony was out of sight before calling Bucky again.

Bucky answered instantly, apparently the reception was really good in Wakanda. Steve loved listening to Bucky's voice, which is why he asked how his day went as soon as the call connected. Buck couldn't resist and dove right into talking about how advanced everything was, the science, the medicine. He said it was so nice, and the place he and Peter would stay was amazing too, and it was a shame that Peter couldn't see it yet.

Steve agreed, it was a shame. "Does he know what he wants to do yet?"

Bucky sighed. "No. No, and I ain't pushin' him, Stevie. This is fucked, n'you know it."

Steve shifted and sighed. "Yeah, it really is. I'm not gonna say it's not."

He could hear Bucky's breaths and he could almost feel his long exhales. He could almost see Bucky leaning against a wall with a cigarette between his fingers.

"What are they doing about your arm? Is there anything they can do?"

"They offered to make me a new one, but it's gonna take some time. Have'ta roll without one for now, but it can't be that bad... I'm finally all me again, Stevie."

Steve couldn't help but smile. He knew that this was probably a dream come true for Bucky, despite the horrible circumstances. He was finally free of that damned arm and he'd probably never been happier, but there was only one question he had.

"And... Your ring?" He asked nervously, twiddling the one that rested on his own finger.

Bucky laughed and exhaled heavily. "I've got it right here, Stevie... I told you I'd never lose it. How's Becca?"

Steve smiled softly and reached down to pet the dog beside him. "She's good... Keeps lookin' for ya."

"You know, Stevie... When this is finally over... I'm really lookin' forward to marryin' you."

Steve's cheeks heated up, and he felt like he was sixteen again and nearing a panic attack because Bucky said he loved him for the first time. He remembers clutching his chest while he fought to pull air into his lungs, but he also remembers the panic on Bucky's face realizing that the shock could literally have killed Steve then... Steve likes to pick on him for it, even now.

Steve has a habit of joking about things that he shouldn't, but only when it's personal to him. Too broke to go to school? Make jokes. Almost died in the line of fire? Laugh it off. Go through a traumatic transformation into 'Captain America' and have people look at you like the posters until you die? Ignore it, make some jokes, pretend it doesn't bother you.

He was good at it. Or, he thought he was anyways. It stopped working on Bucky after about three months of them knowing one another.

"Buck, I think you're gonna give me another panic attack," he teased, loving the way Bucky laughed.

"Don't start, punk... I'll let you go, it's probably getting pretty late there, huh?"

Steve agreed, then asked Bucky'd been to sleep yet. He said no, and Steve suggested he get some rest too. Bucky, being the genius he is, suggested they FaceTime to sleep. He was sure Peter would be okay for a couple of hours.

Steve didn't even try to protest this time and went inside and curled up in their bed with Becca at his feet. When the screen flashed and Bucky's face appeared on the small phone's screen, Steve couldn't help but smile. He knew that Bucky wouldn't be on the phone still when he woke, but at least he was here for Steve to fall asleep to.

If that's all he could get right now, he'd take it.

No questions asked.


	83. eighty-three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd grind the chapters, but I got super busy and I'm so sorry :((

Bucky walked into Peter's little space in the MedBay and sighed, seeing the small boy just staring at the small photo he held in his hands. He wasn't going to ask, and he wasn't going to push. He was going to sit quietly next to Peter's bed and just be there for him, no matter what. But as a surprise, Peter spoke first.

"I don't want to get rid of it." He whispered.

Bucky felt shocked, but he just nodded, smiling softly when Peter looked up at him over the edge of the paper. "Okay, Petey."

"Okay? You're not gonna tell me I shouldn't keep it?"

Bucky shook his head and scooted closer to Peter's bed. "Not at all. Pete, that's not my place. If you want to keep it, then I'm here to help you. If you don't want to keep it, I wouldn't try and make you. That's not my place."

Peter nodded and looked back to the photo. Bucky waited a moment before speaking again. "Should I call Wade?"

Peter shook his head and put the photo down. "No. I'm gonna do this myself. I need space. I can't be near Wade right now, I just wanna do this on my own for a while. We're not together, I'm not obligated to call him or include him in anything like this. He's not the father, it's not his business."

Bucky nodded. He understood. "Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll be right here every step of the way, Peter."

The boy smiled up at his father. "I know you will."

They both knew that it was nothing they could promise. There was no guarantee that nothing would happen to them. But for now, they could pretend.

 

Just a couple of days later, Peter was able to leave the MedBay and go home... Well, as home as their new place could be. They lived in a tall building near the palace and their own floor was near the top of the building. It was pretty damn nice. A kitchen, a bathroom, a room for each of them, plus they were even allowed to have a pet if they wanted to, which was nice. Peter said he wanted a goat, and Bucky said he'd look into it.

Peter sat down on the bed in his room. Nothing in this room was his, nothing made this feel like a home. On the wall was an empty corkboard with some pins though, so Peter pinned up the ultrasound photo and then sat back down. This was gonna be a lot to get used to, that was for sure.

He looked towards his window. He wondered what he might need to make this place seem more like home. The walls and windows were bare, and the bed had a nice looking blue duvet on it. The furniture was all the same dark wood and there was a comfy looking rocking chair in the corner.

Peter touched his flat stomach and thought about how in a few short months he'd be a parent, and the thought took its toll immediately, scaring him to the point of tears. He was still so young, how could he be a parent? How could he be a _good_ parent at that? He'd never even had parents before!

He didn't want to ruin the child's life. Would putting it up for adoption be better for it? Surely someone else out there in the world was better suited to be a parent. Surely there was someone more prepared than he was.

For fuck's sake, the baby's father was a murderer, a kidnapper, a rapist, and a fucking Hydra agent... But if he put the child up for adoption and Hydra came after them... The baby wouldn't be nearly as protected. Keeping it seemed to be the best option, despite all of Peter's other thoughts about the situation. But he didn't want this, he knew that. Everyone knew that. He said he'd keep it but how could he?

His hands trembled. His body shook. He stood, hands pressed against his flat stomach as his nails dug into his skin. It was like something inside of him wanted him to rip the baby out with his bare hands.

He didn't know what was wrong with him but he couldn't get rid of the thought of tearing his stomach open with his nails. "Dad!"

He heard loud footsteps and then Bucky was there in the doorway. "Peter? What's going on?"

Peter, shaking and afraid, didn't know what to do. "Hit me!"

"What?"

"Hit me like you did when I was shot!"

And Bucky, who was now worried as hell and still down an arm had to think quickly because he could see the boy's hands and Peter needed his help so he'd do what he had to do. He moved like a flash and trapped Peter against the bed with his leg and brought his hand down on Peter's shoulder. The boy knocked out like a light and fell like a sack of potatoes against Bucky's leg.

Bucky was lucky to be so strong because he lifted the boy up with his only arm and managed to tuck him into bed. He'd put in a call to the resident doctors, and then to Strange. Because as much as he wanted to trust the people here in Wakanda, it'd be nice to have the opinion of a friend too.


	84. eighty-four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve starts to wonder just what the hell he's doing.

_"You just don't know when to give up, do you?"_

_"I could do this all day."_

Steve focused solely on the punching bag in front of him. He wasn't worried about being back at Avengers HQ and he wasn't worried about Becca sitting with Nat by the door and he wasn't worried about being in the same building as Tony Stark.

He was worried about Bucky, and he was worried about Peter and today his anxiety was flaring up and he was remembering too much from before and it's not really what he needed to be doing today.

_"Sometimes I think you like getting punched."_

_"I had him on the ropes."_

Steve didn't know what he could have been thinking back then. He was 5'7" and 110 pounds soaking wet. He was lucky enough to even know how to throw a punch in the first place, but take a guy down? That'd be a damned miracle.

Hence why it never happened.

_"Where are we going?"_

_"The future."_

He remembered the smile on Bucky's face. He remembered how excited Bucky had been to see all of the science and technology. He knew this was also Bucky's last chance to chaperone those girls on their dates, and Bucky wasn't going to let them down.

He remembers Howard Stark's floating car and the amazement on Bucky's face... But he also remembers not being excited or able to focus, as he knew it was Bucky's final night in Brooklyn.

_"You're really gonna do this now?"_

_"It's a fair. I'm gonna try my luck."_

He remembers feeling like he might really get lucky this time, even though that wasn't the point, to begin with. He remembers Bucky looking all suave in his uniform and he remembers being fucking _terrified_ at the fact that Bucky might leave and never come back.

_"As who? "Steve from Ohio"? They'll catch you. Or worse, they'll actually take you."_

_"You don't think I can do it."_

He thinks maybe he should have given up, but he can't help but wonder what would've happened to Bucky if he had. Bucky probably never would have made it out of the Hydra base, to begin with, and if he did, maybe he would've lived through the train ride.

Well, lived with both arms that is. Sometimes Steve forgets that Bucky didn't actually die. Sometimes he wishes that Bucky would've died, just so he could've been free from all of the bullshit.

_"This isn't some back alley, Steve. It's a war. Why are you so keen to fight? There're lots of other important jobs-"_

_"You want me to sit in a factory? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon while men are laying down their lives? I can do as well as them and I got no right to do any less."_

For once, he'd been right and he knew it based solely on the look of what could've been resign on Bucky's face. He didn't have any goddamn right to do anything less than the other men laying down their lives for the good of their families, their country.

He had no right to do any less than Bucky.

"That's the thing you don't get, Bucky. It's not about me."

"Right. 'Cause you've got nothin' to prove."

Bucky was so clearly annoyed with him and his never-ending battle to be a part of the chaos. To have a spot in the line to defend the country. To have a place to defend Bucky, even though Bucky didn't need a scrawny kid looking after him.

He stopped assaulting the punching bag in favor of trying to catch his breath and wiping the sweat from his brow. Nat strode over, hips commanding the attention of the room, even though they were the only ones in it.

She pushed a bottle of water into his hands and sighed softly.

"How much longer are you going to try and kill yourself in here?"

He took a sip of the water and looked down at her, into her gentle eyes. He shrugged a little and she just sighed.

"Steve, you can't keep punishing yourself for the past. It's over, and there's nothing you can do to change it."

"No, but I need to do something about the "right now". About Peter, about Bruce, about Rumlow. All of it."

"Bucky is with Peter. Let him worry about that for now. Worry about what you can do right now. Bruce, and Rumlow. Those are your options."

He lets out a heavy breath. "Which one's easier?"

She gives him a smile. "Rumlow. Dealing with Bruce will always be harder because he was your friend."

Steve nods, and they make their way back to Brooklyn. It's been a very long time since Steve straight up killed anyone, but he supposes it's never too late to start giving these Hydra assholes what they deserve.

Nat's knife was carefully strapped to her thigh like it usually was and as they pulled into the dirt parking area, Steve reached over and pulled it out of its holster and checked to make sure it was loaded.

They exited the car with no care for closing the doors and strode into the building.

Natasha flipped the switch and the lights turned on with an audible clank... And Steve didn't know what else to do but yell in pure rage as he stared at the chair in the middle of the room.

And realized that it was empty.


End file.
